


To Be Your Shadow.

by A_N_Whitmore



Series: Ballad of Shadows [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Haymitch Abernathy in the 75th Hunger Games, Hunger Games Victor Katniss Everdeen, Jewish Haymitch, Mentor Katniss, Peeta didn't survive, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_N_Whitmore/pseuds/A_N_Whitmore
Summary: Haymitch is automatically reaped for the Quarter Quell and Katniss must mentor him, but first they must think how the Capitol thinks, and act as they act.The bond between a new mentor and their first tribute is special in the Capitol and surrounding districts. Here at Mentor’s College they learn to think and act as a cohesive unit. To not listen to your mentor is to die. But this bond is born of isolation and desperation to win. For though they cannot die yet, they’ll wish they had.
Relationships: Haymitch Abernathy/Katniss Everdeen
Series: Ballad of Shadows [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789414
Comments: 13
Kudos: 13





	1. The bond of Victors and the solitude of Victory

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This fanfic doesn’t follow Catching Fire or Mockingjay except in the arena of the games. I won’t be rehashing the entire movie and I will be adding new scenes and or dialogue.  
> Peeta is dead… no he isn’t coming back to life. No Alma Coin in later chapters and there is a mentor training school (Thank You Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes for the idea) Katniss cooperated for Prim. Don’t like? Plenty of fics to choose from on here. Go read one of them or give this a chance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haymitch is automatically reaped for the Quarter Quell and Katniss must mentor him, but first they must think how the Capitol thinks, and act as they act.
> 
> The bond between a new mentor and their first tribute is special in the Capitol and surrounding districts. Here at Mentor’s College they learn to think and act as a cohesive unit. To not listen to your mentor is to die. But this bond is born of isolation and desperation to win. For though they cannot die, they’ll wish they had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This fanfic doesn’t follow Catching Fire or Mockingjay except in the arena of the games. I won’t be rehashing the entire movie and I will be adding new scenes and or dialogue.  
> Peeta is dead… no he isn’t coming back to life. No Alma Coin in later chapters and there is a mentor training school (Thank You Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes for the idea) Katniss cooperated for Prim. Don’t like? Plenty of fics to choose from on here. Go read one of them or give this a chance.

=====================================================================

Another year, another game. It felt as though her fingernails would never come clean. The haunting rust smell of his blood still rose with phantom memory each time she brought her hands to her face. Katniss tried to push the visuals from her mind; fighting Cato off of Peeta, the blood pouring down his neck… Nails caked with dried blood. The string of her bow cutting into her fingertips as she let the arrow fly…

“Sweetheart! Snap out of it, Snow is on the line.” Haymitch waved his hand in front of her face, The scent of rye white whiskey on his lips made her hunger for the warmth of the liquid and its false courage.

In the small study the air, though light and fresh through the window, changed to a more foreboding scent. Katniss smelled roses overwhelming and cloying. The light of the room seemed to darken with his presence.

“Miss Everdeen! I trust you are doing well? Snow’s crisp, clean visage complete with white rose smiled out from the Capitol line. He was still taking keen interest. Though the tour had been over for nearly a month, he still called weekly on every Friday eve before the sun set.

“Did you get the leather gloves I sent? It won’t do to wear those black fabric ones Cinna fashioned. Perfectly fine for the Victory Tour of course but you are a Mentor now."

Mentor, Katniss was reminded of the caveat to her survival yet again, how she hated the word.

“The gloves did the job well enough,” she traced the Mockingjay symbol with its golden threads gently out of view even though she knew the house had been bugged.

“Please, humor me.” His request was anything but sincere. She learned that well on the tour. Haymitch handed her the thin red box, etched with the words “ _Capitol Cordwainers, makers of fine leather goods since 2029_.” Two crossed round knives etched in gold, with green ivy accents on the blade, graced a black wax seal over white ribbon keeping the box closed.

Snow crossed his arms, pleased with her acquiesce to his demand. He watched her pick up the silver letter opener and pry the wax loose, setting it to the side as she lifted the lid off with her left. Red silk lined the box, proffering two pairs of hand tooled leather gloves.  
One in fawn brown, the other in black with red accent. The red accent on the black gloves turned out to be a flower, but what kind she was unsure. Her familiar mockingjay symbol was stamped above in relief.

“Do you know the language of flowers Miss Everdeen?” At her silence he continued, “The language of flowers was an ancient tradition in an era known as the Victorian Era. During that time a flower could speak volumes about the sender or the receiver. A flower could mean anything from love and sincerity to distain and utter rejection. This flower here for example, the one on your black gloves, is the hyssop. The hyssop symbolizes sacrifice.”

He took a pause to sip at his wine and allowed the information to sink in.

“Your sacrifice… Losing young Mellark, it has endeared you to the people even more than your volunteering did. Now we must ask you to make a sacrifice for us once more. You are to mentor your tribute here in the Capitol for the games. Please, try them on.” He gestured to the gloves before her and leaned back in his chair behind the large marble topped desk.

She noted that the black pair were tight, the cuff of the gloves stopping short barely an inch below her hand.

“Thank you, but I was _promised_ a year to recover before becoming a mentor.”

“Ah yes, but these are a special games… The 75th Hunger Games, a Quarter Quell. Instead of a pool of tributes, we choose from the best of our victors. As you have just won a game and to give you the rest you crave, I have ordered that your name not be entered, along with those in your family for the next two games, but you must agree.”

“Or what?”

“Or your family will continued to be entered until your sister reaches eighteen.”

“If I mentor… if, I want Prim’s name removed permanently.”

“What makes you think you’re in a position to request such a thing?” Snow steepled his hands, leaning forward to stare deeply, as if peering into her mind.  
“I can have you arrested in a heartbeat, instead of the newest darling, you’ll be the newest traitor.

“You want to make me a willing puppet? To dance to your tune? Give me this in return.”

Snow laughed capriciously, though she was unsure if it was from true amusement or a sharp barb.

“A puppet, my dear… I don’t have puppets. I have servants. And you, my dear brave victor are a civil servant now. But, I digress. I will grant you this if and only if you help Mr. Abernathy secure victory.”

“Haymitch?” She looked to her left where Haymitch drank a finger of bourbon quietly, a dark cast over his slate gaze

“You do remember that besides you, he is the only other victor in your district.”

“What about someone volunteering?” Katniss peeled the gloves off, grabbing the bottle and pouring two fingers of her own, propriety be damned.

“That won’t do sweetheart, I’m not letting your friends die, at least not this game.”

“There, you see. He knows his duty.” Snow spread his hands in a gesture of forgiveness and something inside of her snapped.

“It isn’t duty when you’re forced sir.”

“Careful Miss Everdeen, you’re treading in dangerous waters. I’ll take it as a youthful indiscretion and pray I never hear that from your _Appalachian_ mouth again.” His white gloved hand pointed through the image, his anger evident in tone and plainly visible on his face. It was a stark contrast to the kindly yet stern grandfather presence he had cultivated all these years.

Appalachian, a curse word of the rich for the piss poor of districts eleven and twelve, as shocking from a Capitol mouth as cunt would be from hers.

“I’ll see you in two weeks.” Snow moved to deactivate the line but she spoke before he could end it.

“The games aren’t until late July. It’s just past April.”

“Mentor college takes precedence, you do want to win don’t you?”

He didn’t wait for her response before hanging up, leaving her with a grey and white screen of digital noise.

“Mentor college. He’s pulling out all the stops for you.” Haymitch stood up and stretched, “He’ll expect you to wear those,” he gestured to the gloves as he stood next to her. In a rather perplexing moment, he rested his hand on her shoulder, the weight of the games a familiar yoke they both bore, but now the tables were turned. She would have to keep him alive.

The nice light sky blue of the study suddenly looked gray and claustrophobic as her fear threatened to overwhelm her.

“The hell is mentor college?” She croaked the words out as she moved to finish the stiff drink, not wanting to look at her mother’s sentimental photos while talking about death and destruction.

Haymitch spoke softly, “It’s a crash course in teaching people how to be ruthless, to help their tribute to victory no matter what. It’s usually only for the Capitol and surrounding rich districts. District four has their own training school and the rest of the districts flounder.

“You still didn’t explain.”

“Open your eyes sweetie, he wants us to be attached at the hip, I am the baker boy in this game.”

“Don’t talk about Peeta like that.” Her hand moved to touch the silver frame bearing his image, but Haymitch laid it face down, kneeling in front of her.

“The whole point of mentor college is to be of one mind in this game, I am your shadow, what you think I execute. It is going to be that way from the moment we step off of that train and continue until I’m either dead or wearing another circlet. We will be expected to do everything together until I am in that arena. Do you get it yet? You and I… We’re the next power move on the chess board.” Haymitch took a breath and continued.

“They’ll be pooling from the female tributes for this reaping. Name selection lottery as in every other game. We’ll need to train her, but Snow knows a throwaway when he sees one. She’s a lame doe in the forest, no matter who gets picked. Tell your sister she can’t volunteer.”

“What about the other tributes?”

“All seasoned victors of sometimes multiple games, thirty four of them in the pool this time. Twenty four will be chosen.” His breath rushed out in a deafening sigh in the quiet of the small study.

"Don’t worry about them right now, we have to focus on you. Mentor college is a mind fuck. It’s designed to break you down, chew you up and spit you out. I attended after the 50th games, the second quell. You won’t be injured physically, at least not anything catastrophic. But mentally?” He shook his head unable to continue, “Look kid…Katniss, if you don’t follow Snow’s rules this time… if you don’t dance to his tune… He’ll kill your family and make you wish you could join them. If you don’t listen, you’ll be a living lesson.”

“They did that… didn’t they? Killed your family?”

“Yes, because I made them look almost as foolish as you did. He won’t hesitate again if you put a toe out of line.” Haymitch went to stand up but Katniss grabbed his hand. The look in her eyes was plaintive. The look that echoed his own years before, the look that asked ‘What if I get you killed?’

“Don’t lose sleep over me doe eyes, there’s not much that I’m good for anyways.”

“Why are they allowing you to go with me?”

“Simple doll face, I’m technically training you again, just on how to save others instead of yourself. If this weren’t a quell, he’d be giving you fresh meat to sink your teeth into, to make you realize that you are meant to be here and they are expendable. This gives you an emotional investment beyond just getting Prim out of the games. It guarantees your cooperation.”

Katniss nodded standing up, “Did they ever force you to do anything else?”

“It’s the Capitol sweetheart… they always make victors do things we don’t want to do.

“What is mentor college like?”

“Take a walk with me.” Haymitch held out his hand, almost more supportive in the past half hour than he’d been in the entire year.

Except the night she’d been declared a victor. Then he’d held her and forced her to stop washing her hands, something that he had to do often in the last year. The reason for the gloves, her mind stopped picturing her nails and hands caked in Peeta’s blood as long as she wore something over them. Out of sight out of mind or so the old adage went. But it didn’t stop the nightmares. Her mother’s herbs did that, and kept the sadness at bay.

Her father’s pipe and old herb pouch sat next to the flint match and steel. Some relief was needed but that would come in the quiet late at night when the summer frogs sang out near the reservoir; when Prim along with their mother slept soundly. She and Haymitch would sit out front after coming home from the tour. Both waking in a cold sweat and meeting in the dark on their porches, he drinking and herself smoking. Neither saying a word.

Two more weeks and it was back to hell.

Far from putting on the cold drunken bastard facade, Haymitch genuinely looked concerned. Looking around, he grabbed her hunting leathers and her quiver. Anything to distract her while they had this conversation.

“Grab your bow, we’ll go get quail.” He handed her items to her, grabbing the bottle off the desk as they made their way out.

“You hate quail.”

No, I hate the orange sauce your mother makes to go with it. I have no idea what she puts in it.”

“Then don’t come over for fresh meat. You could learn to hunt yourself you know.”

“I could but I don’t want to. Key difference there.”

After she grabbed the brown gloves, they walked through to town with few words; nodding here or there to people that waved a hand in greeting. Mostly victors were left alone, to be in solitude. To interrupt a victor’s solitude was something most Twelve residents wouldn’t do. Especially the elders who still remembered fighting in the rebellion. They crossed at the meadow, slipping past the dead electric fence and entering into the woods.

“So when you say ‘be my shadow’, what did you mean?”

As they walked through the leafy dens, Haymitch took sips here and there, pausing between mouthfuls to answer.

“The mentor college is designed to make you think in a cohesive unit, that you and your tribute bond at such a deep level you’d do anything to see them succeed.”

“Bond in what way?”

“That depends on you. Each mentor develops it differently. For some it’s a deep friendship, for others it is based on mutual hate and the desire for power. For others, the relationship turns… sexual.”

“How did yours develop?” She watched him take a long slug from the bottle and grimace. His hair was shorter than it had ever been, shaved on the sides with a thin tailored beard. This must have been what he meant by being ‘shaped up’ the other day. For the first time she noticed a silver earring in his right ear.

After coming around a dense patch of trees, Haymitch lifted a branch revealing a small lake below a waterfall, overlooked by a grassy gradient.

“Sexually, Katniss… they keep you alone, for two months, the only time the other tributes and mentors come together is in the mock games. Kids volunteer to be tributes in this school and the same with the mentors. You and I, we will have no one but each other.  
So you understand what I meant by shadow? I’m either going to follow your advice and instruction or I’m not and you become a shitty mentor and I die. So you are going to become an amazing mentor.”

He sat down, handing her the bottle. Katniss drank as she stood looking over at the waterfall. Sometimes it was better to have him there rather than sitting alone, it made it easier for her to breathe even though he drove her up the damn wall. Kicking their shoes and socks off for a while, they lay there in the silence.

“So how do we play this? Obviously we aren’t good as friends but I can try to not be a prick.”

“That’s not going to happen. You’ll always be a prick.” She snorted in derision as he went to take back the bottle.

“So what are we saying here? Mutual hatred and power climbing? Because I’ve already been doing that. We hate Snow and you won the games.” He offered his hand out once more.

She took it and sat down next to him, “You look good like that, the hair I mean. Same shitty attitude but, you clean up good.”

“I could say the same about you. You aren’t a fucking ray of sunshine either..”

“Never said I was.”

“So?” Haymitch looked questioningly at her. The warmth of the semi summer breeze had the hint of petrichor, rain was coming and soon.

“What is the best method to get through this? I want to work together.”

“I’ve found that testing the waters works out best, we try to be friends, not rock the boat and get out by the skin of our teeth.”

Katniss watched Haymitch for a while, contemplating his words. Lately they'd grown close since Peeta's death in the arena. He'd been helping to sort through her confusing thoughts and intense fear. A fear that now increased with the revelation that Haymitch would be forced to not only watch her mentor, but be pulled as the male tribute for the 75th Games. It wasn't that he counseled her but rather that he shut up and listened. Gazing at his visage for 2 1/2 months, during her bad nights when he held her was a balm. Listening to his whispering comfort was a lantern in the dark of her soul. Then there were the days when she felt almost human watching him feed the damned geese in his yard; she knew he'd become someone else. Despite his drunkenness, despite his flaws, he was there in a way her mother and Prim could never be. Over the last month, Katniss had watched him change, growing from haggard drunk asshole to protective and capable.

He still got drunk off his ass, his attitude was there, but he'd become someone she needed around, someone from whom she craved companionship, and having him looking like this lately had made her feel something she'd thought was killed. Desire. She'd woken up confused and more than aroused after a night of drinking and found herself looking at him as more than dependable. She wanted to experience him as a woman, not as her surrogate father.

“Or we can do this.” She pushed him to the ground and straddled his hips, stealing the bourbon back and taking another drink.

“You’ve had enough doll, you don’t know what you’re doing,” he pulled the bottle from her grip and set it down on the grass beside them, "I'm old enough to be your father."

“You said test the waters, I’m the mentor, I make the decisions.”

“Well, give you a lick of power and look at you go. Girl on fire is right.”

“Shut up and let me feel things out.”

“If you wanted to fuck, you could have just asked, I've got qualms but I'm human. You want to do this even though this is a mistake, who am I to judge you? I can't promise I'll make it good but you could ask.” He tended to repeat himself often when drunk, something he continually denied.

“I don’t ask.”

“Damn right you don’t.” Haymitch leaned back on his elbows, waiting for her to make a move.

“I hate you you selfish bastard.”

“Hate you more beautiful, are we doing this or not?” He was cut off from his response as she kissed him, the alcohol tasting like lightning smelled before a storm. It had been so long since he’d been with anyone. But Katniss, she made his blood boil. In reality, it was eighty-five percent anger, but the other fifteen percent wanted to fuck her until her smart mouth moaned his name.

He’d tried to be good during the farce with Mellark, and genuinely tried not to scream every time they touched. He’d been the mentor they’d needed, cold and aloof. This time though required synchronicity. She was a mentor now, needing to be initiated into the seedy underbelly of the Capitol’s power structure.

She kissed well, but not well enough for the powerful elite, she made him hard but not hungry for her. If she was going to manipulate someone into wanting to give support in any fashion, she needed to be prepared to give everything.

“Have you ever fucked before?” He knew he was being coarse, but nice did not give you sponsorship, nice got a pat on the back and a ‘good luck’ for all your efforts.

Katniss shook her head, but didn’t pause as she kissed him again. There was desperation there with more than a hint of awkwardness this time. Ahh the blush of youth, there were some things that even forced murder couldn’t take away.

“Wait, wait,” he pulled himself away reluctantly. “You need to learn something else about yourself kid. You need to find what you enjoy sexually, right now even though your kissing is good, there isn’t a life, a need… the drive.”

“What does this have to do with mentorship?” Katniss moved to get off of him but he firmly held her in place.

“Remember, the Capitol doesn’t always deal in standard currency. Kiss me again this time, slower, explore what you find comfortable unless your target tells you otherwise. You may be paid and they think they hold the reins, but in reality it’s a whole different ball game. Secrets are Snow’s bread and butter…” He stopped talking as her tongue brushed his bottom lip.

She pulled back however when he went to reciprocate. “Why are we choosing this method. Isn’t there any other way?”

“You wanted to try… I gave you options.”

I remember that but why am I doing this?”

“Because,” he brushed a lock of deep chestnut hair behind her ear, “Mentors will do anything to protect a tribute. The reason we are doing this darlin’ is to train you to get inside their head and find their secrets. To make them want to support your tribute just to have another chance with you.”

“You’re the first person I’ve kissed since the games.”

“Lose the innocence, it won’t help either of us. You can’t still have qualms after this.”

“So we’re whores.”

“No, we learn the skills to become a master manipulator. Without a skillset, the best friend, the seductress etcetera, no one will look twice at you as a mentor.Young mentors use their bodies because they know they can win over easily distracted men and women. They can get information easily because the guard is let down. You win me over, you can win anyone.”

“So they do this mentor and first tribute relationship to teach you what? To realize that they’ll die and there isn’t anything you can do about it if you don’t sell your skills?”

“Not so much that, it’s to teach you that you cannot hope to win if you don’t sacrifice your pride and vanity… unless it serves you in some way, they want to take it out. To polish you or to melt you down like iron and reforge you in their image. Katniss… you need to separate who you are from who you are going to become.”

Her hips shifted against him, causing him to hiss at the suddenly delicious angle. The soft grey cotton pants he wore did little to protect him from the heat of her sex. The tan deer hide leggings tapered pleasantly down her thighs, hugging her form. the lacings came up over a tucked homespun cotton shift shirt that showed her breasts slightly in the sunlight. He could tell she wore no undershirt to hide them.

“Can I at least choose who I want?” She took his roughened hands in hers and shifted them to rest on her hips.

“You can have choices at times but Snow… he can gift you to someone for a time. Aside from us working together, he may throw you into the lions den.”

“Then I’d rather choose my first time.” She started pulling at her shirt, the tan leather of her gloves tight over her fingers.

“Then go find Gale or some other boy from the Seam or a man if it pleases you.” He stopped her as he started to see the warm olive complexion of her skin reveal itself.

“How would that help us get to know one another then? To become a cohesive unit?”

“Katniss you aren’t even attracted to me and if you are, then you are just as fucked up as the rest of us already.

“You don’t need attraction for sex, if it’s going to happen, I’d rather choose someone who really knows me.” Her gloved hand feathered through his hair, gripping suddenly and pulling, forcing him to bare his throat in an almost submissive manner.”

“I didn’t realize your interests ran that way doll.”

“I’m not your doll or anything else. I’m your mentor.”

“You already said that, so show me what you’ll do about it.”

She cut him off as she pulled him roughly up to meet her lips, the kiss bruising, demanding and intoxicating. Gone was the timid awkwardness, replaced with determination.

“There it is,” he gasped when she let go, he didn’t try to stop her this time as she pulled her shirt from her body, “there’s the girl on fire.”

He pushed her hands away undoing her leggings and shoving them part way down her thighs, eager suddenly to see her sex. For the first time since forever, he was having more than the desire to scratch an itch. He began to feel that hunger he lacked. Pulling himself up, he propped his knee beneath her hip and rolled her onto the grass away from the rocks above the falls. The bottle of bourbon fell, pouring its caramel colored contents back to the earth but he didn’t care. Her granite eyes widened as she watched him lift himself up and peel off his vest and shirt; his scars on display.

“You really want this?” He was giving her an option, but he would never forget the sight of her tawny skin and the high set of her breasts. Her hair fanned out haphazardly with her legs trapped in her leathers. The dusky set of her nipples rose and fell in bated breath.

“Take them off, your pants, let me see you… tribute.”

“Yes ma’am.” Suddenly it was twenty five years earlier and he pictured Maysilee under him, her sigh of ‘Mitch’ in his ear. He pushed that to the back of his mind and stood up carefully, peeling off the offending article. The air brushing against his hard cock made him shiver slightly, but it was replaced soon with the heat of the sun. He watched her reach down and force the leather leggings down and off revealing her smooth sex. The delicate mocha of her labia peaking out from her mons made him groan.

The thought of fucking her was different from the reality. In his mind he pictured an argument, her throwing things at him until he finally shut her mouth with his. He pictured her nails clawing down his back, finally freed from the memories of the baker boy’s blood. He had imagined taking her in a fit of passion. The reality? It was cool and calculated, measuring out duty over desire. Yet, it didn’t dampen his arousal one iota.

“Tell me what you want, or you can think of me as a sponsor and think of … my father once said to my mother, just think of England. Apparently it was one of the old countries from before the war.”

“Haymitch. Stop talking and touch me.” He didn’t think twice as he knelt down, spreading her legs. Instead of talking, he leaned forward and licked a stripe across her clit, blowing afterwards. He found he liked watching her skin prickle in goose flesh and did it again. This time sucking her clit in between his lips. He watched her shoulders rise from the grassy knell they called theirs and felt her warm gloved fingers trace over his head, leading down his back as she sighed.

The whip vine scar on his sixth rib itched as she traced lightly. The old threads of its now defunct neurotoxin activating and burning. But he wanted to remember this pain. He wanted to remember her just as he remembered Maysilee before she died in the games. If he was going to fall… if after all this, he was to sacrifice himself…

“Come back to me”, he heard her whisper as he traced her thighs with his fingers. He sucked harder, shutting his eyes as she cried out, her hands gripping his hair in sudden shock. He dipped his tongue within her, tasting her essence, feeling her flutter and tighten. As he pulled away, she rose up to meet him. her hand tracing over his chest.

“Gloves off sweetheart. Just for a little while.”

“Haymitch.”

“Can’t feel us together if you have them on, come to the water and drink with me.”

He pulled them off slowly, giving her time to object. When she didn’t, he led her down the cobbled stone stairs to the silty sand. They stood naked and free for what could be the last time with cool water lapping at their feet.  
His erection had abated, but it didn’t matter, as he stood there drinking her in. She slowly walked into the waters, turning her back to him and kneeling. Letting the slight waves wash over her breasts. If he had to play these games, if he was to be a victor once more, he’d do it to keep her and her family safe. She looked over her shoulder, staring back at him. Her doe eyes taking on a silver color.

“Come in with me.” That voice was good, her unabashed sexuality coming out as though her voice were made of cream. The coquettish desire was obvious. She was good. A natural, and what rough edges she had would be rounded out.

“They’re gonna love you sweetheart, trust me.” He waded in, pulling her to him.

“What’s next Haymitch?” The sound of a fox calling in the distance shook him out of getting lost in her.

“Whatever you want Katniss.” She turned in his arms, her skin water dappled and glinting in the sunlight as beads of water travelled between the valley of her breasts.

“I really do love your hair like this, you look less like a Hob hobo.”

“I’ll have you know my father was a hobo.” He bent slightly and licked the water that teased him, following its trail up her neck, sucking softly as she whimpered. “Tell me what you want?”

“Keep doing that.” He sucked with more tenacity, feeling her leg attempt to hitch up over his hip.

“Tell me what you really want.” He could feel himself coming to life again, wanting to see her undone.

“Please… make love to me. I don’t want to have some sponsor or be a gift. I want things on my terms."

He searched her eyes for any doubts. Finding none he tilted his head, his lips brushing her forehead and moving down over her brow. When he reached her cheeks he could taste the salt of tears.

“None of that now.”

“I’ll lose you like I lost him.” He could feel her arms slip through his, her chin came to rest on his shoulder. He lifted her out of the water and her legs automatically found their way about his waist as he carried her over to a niche behind the waterfall.

The niche was one of his hideaways, probably known about by all the teens, but everyone knew it was his. Beetee had taught him to tie a force field code to his inactive tracker. With a wave of his wrist over the sensor, he saw the light flash through his skin and the hum of the field deactivate. It would restore itself once they walked through.

“Was the quail just an excuse or do you want me to hunt later?”

He ignored her for the moment, feeling over the floor and avoiding any stalagmites. Finally after a few turns, the cave opened to a cavernous space revealing a simple bed roll and blankets along with a locked chest. He sat her down after kissing her gently. Noticing that he felt an almost tentative regard where before he’d been feeling frustration and anger.

“I wasn’t sure what was going to happen but I didn’t expect this.” He knelt by the chest and pressed his finger to the lock, wincing in pain as the mechanism took a small sample of his blood. The lock read his identity quickly and the lid opened with an automated hiss.

“Are you attracted to me at all?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think there’s a man alive who wouldn’t want you. I’ll admit that I’m not the exception.”

“It makes this easier then.” She watched him pull out candles and some preserved foodstuffs along with a jug of white. She had the urge to look at the contents of the chest but denied her desire. He would share with her if he wanted to.

His hand lingered for a moment over Maysilee’s photo and his mother’s, her floating opal necklace sat there in its pouch undisturbed. His father’s picture with him on the day he was chosen. So many things in there, so many memories both good and bad.

“Easier? Sweetheart we’re just getting a head start on this fucking journey. Sleeping with you… It’s not something to write off as a one and done. If we’re playing this angle again, Snow will want to have proof, he’ll expect it when you’re training. He’ll be determined to entice you away. To shape you into a Capitol Lark, to make you his messenger. You’ll sing out Capitol secrets every morning just like I did. If anyone is going to keep you safe through this it’s me, I’ve been here.”

“So teach me, help me mentor, we’ll protect each other.”

“Protect each other… Sweetheart all I want is to make sure you stay out of his line of fire.” He turned back to her, watching her pull at the quilt and shiver in the semi darkness. “I can protect myself. But let me give you a little advice, a bow and arrow are nothing compared to political machinations. When you play the game, as a mentor… you play for life.”

“Haymitch, come here.” She held her arms open, his quilt falling away to reveal her naked breasts once more. He obeyed, crawling over the bed roll and left his dark thoughts behind in the chest. Her hair had dried in ringlets, framing her face in an array of curls, yet another memory he’d take to the grave.

She pulled him down, her hands splaying over his chest possessively. Her fingers ran over the scars of the barbed wire, next the entry wound where the pink bird muttation had gored into his sternum trying to spear his heart. It seemed an eternity, her hands tracing over him, reading the physical map of his story as a victor. The bite mark scar on his thigh from a croc mutt, the one that had missed his femoral artery, next the sword scar that had split open his belly; that one she spent longer on.

“This one almost killed you. I watched your game. You were what thirteen?”

“Around sixteen. I hadn’t hit my growth spurt yet.”

“And you and the other tribute were close? There were four of you that year but they really focused on you two.”

“Her name was Maysilee Donner, and yes. I had a girl back home but May was different. Innocent, sweet and kind. Like Prim, like you were. She had a knack for poisons but liked making sweets more. I can’t eat the cherry tarts Mrs. Mellark makes, they were May’s recipe.”

He knew what he was doing all too well, deepening their tenuous connection by sharing more about himself than he ever thought he would again. He was giving her what she craved, a fellow victim who survived and knew life could never be the same. If Peeta had lived, he knew the boy would have gone back to what little slice of life that he had and never spoken of his time in the arena.

“I helped murder eighteen people to survive. The arena was a meadow and mountains theme that year, filled with poisonous plants and sometimes it was so hot… there wasn’t any place where you could cool down, even in the shade it was nearly a hundred and ten.” Haymitch knew he was letting everything out in a rush.

The memories suddenly were flooding back to the front of his mind. How May and he had gone their separate ways after that sole night of release, the anger he felt holding her hand as she died, the grief.

“Haymitch, look at me… Look at me,” she cradled his face suddenly, her chapped and worn hands catching on the stubble of his face, “I’m here.”

“There was a lot of blood on my hands too.”

“I know.”  
The reassurance, the gentle touch, the soothing and yet needy voice; if Snow did make her a lark, she’d be as popular as Finnick. If not more. She dropped her hands away and gazed at him searching his face for some unseen answer to their newfound camaraderie,

He leaned over spreading her thighs and put his fingers to her lips which automatically opened without complaint or resistance. he found her tongue and pressed lightly, encouraging her to suck. When his fingers were wet enough he removed them and pushed her back against the cool cave wall.

“Tell me how you like to touch yourself. No… better yet, show me.” She didn’t balk or blush at the request, she merely slid her hands down her sides in a feathering fashion, sighing as she shivered but not breaking eye contact.

“Oh darlin’… You’re a tease.” He watched as her fingers rubbed over her thighs, nails tracing the soft flesh before finally finding her entrance wet and wanting. If she’d wanted to be friends, she would have argued, she never would have let him touch her. She’d thought about him before this.

“Tell me what you think about a man doing to you, tell me what you think about me doing to you.”

“That damn old kitchen chair or that old rickety rocker on your front porch. I imagine walking in on a hot summer night and slipping my nightgown off, you’ve had a lot to drink but you don’t stop me. I fuck you and leave you hard and needy each night until you come to my bed.”

“Such a cruel woman. How often do you think of doing this? Did you ever find anyone to fulfill that desire?” Haymitch found that his hand had drifted to his own sex, joining her in self pleasure, neither breaking eye contact.

“All the time but… I’ve never had this, not until now with you.” She licked her lips, her fingers dancing faster in tight circles around her clit, dipping in and out of her sex; gathering wetness the way a humming bird grabbed nectar.

“So you really are virgin then. no wonder why you’re so determined. Keep going.” He had shifted at some point to a reclining position at the bottom of the bed roll, watching intently and stroking harder as she started climbing to the peak of her orgasm. “Beautiful girl,” he whispered, her eyes had fluttered closed now. She was far too distracted by sensation, he could tell she was lost in the feeling.

“Keep going Kat,” he needed to stop or he wouldn’t last. Sitting up, he shifted himself into the space between her legs and finally pressed his fingers within her, moving at a measured pace he knew young women loved. His forefinger and middle pressed higher within as he gently added a third. He crooked them forward within her, causing her hips to suddenly judder and her toes to curl.  
“There it is, he muttered it more to himself than to her. He alternated between moving his fingers within her and stroking himself in a tight grip once or twice more.

“Do you want to have me fuck you?” He sighed out, feeling precome beading at the head and dribbling down in slow rivulets.

She slowed her movements, pressing a shaky hand to the wall as he removed his fingers from within, “Do you want me to touch you first?”

Seeing him shake his head, she crawled over on weakened legs, sliding across him until their sexes touched, both gasping at the contact. He watched her bold hands reach between her thighs to grasp his cock as she lifted up to make them fit together the ancient way of man and woman. The look on her face wasn’t duty, it wasn’t even acceptance; he saw desire there. Something that before this evening, he had never truly seen from her. Not even with Gale or Peeta had he noticed this raw and open need.

As she settled around him slowly, his eyes closed in sheer effort to keep their dance from ending too soon. He felt her hands move against his chest, felt her contract around him. The press of her hips, his hands gripping them, he urged her to move faster. The roar of the waterfall at the cave mouth grew louder or perhaps that was the blood rushing in his ears. Either way he couldn’t tell.  
He lifted his head, his hand moving up her body to grip her head gently as he maneuvered to kiss her; his tongue searching for the remnants of bourbon on her tongue but finding none.

She moved faster, her beautiful cunt gripping him tightly, a pool of her juices dripped onto his thighs. Sex had always been sloppy, quick, and highly drunk. He hadn’t looked for anything more, but this… this was how it had been with May. That was dangerous. He licked at the sweat on her high breasts, sucking a toffee colored nipple between his lips and rolled it about when suddenly she cried out.

“Haymitch!” she arched back as he followed, his hips thrusting himself deeper within until finally, finally the white hot wave came over him but instead of sea green eyes and blonde hair, he saw storm grey eyes and chestnut.

“Christ!” Haymitch gripped at her shoulders, holding her there as he spilled within her.

This was exactly how he’d felt twenty five years ago, an act he’d repeated a year later with his own first tribute Calissa. A girl from the Seam like Katniss, so similar in looks but ultimately dead within three days from a District 9 scythe after a raging infection. He’d vowed until now to never get close to a tribute or a mentor like that again. Yet, Katniss made him break that rule so easily.


	2. Pawns In Their Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They speak of Victors and Mentors, of games past, present , and future. What's more, he speaks of his past, and devotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, second chapter in, it ended earlier than I was expecting it to while writing but I think it's perfect. This is and Aberdeen (Abernathy/Everdeen) fic. Once again Peeta has departed and shuffled off the mortal coil... I swear the next story I do will make it up to him but this one kept crying out to be written. If you don't like it, don't read it. If you do like the May/December former mentor and tribute having the tables reversed, keep enjoying the damn rollercoaster because it's about to go DOWN!

Later when the night was long since darkened, he awoke to find his cave devoid of her presence.

“Shit.” He quickly ruffled through his chest in the dark finding an old ragged pair of minors coveralls, a leftover from his attempts at trying to die in a cave in twelve years earlier. 

“Damn it Kat, where are you?” The scanner must have recognized the Capitol tracker in her arm and let her out thinking that it was his. He quickly made his way to the entrance and waved his wrist over the sensor, stepping out before the field had completely dropped and got a painful jolt to his right leg.

“Oh Appalachian mother of dogs! Fuck!” He stepped onto the landing with a nearly dead leg in time to see her in his mother’s lace dress; coming back with their clothes, bow and quiver. She must have come the long way, coming from the upper ridge on the south side and climbing down to avoid the water.

“Haymitch?”

“You left.” The gloves were back in place, the soft yet shining leather bearing stamps of Eidelweiss and Snapdragons. Loyalty and deception, the flowers Snow had often gifted him to remind that he was always watching for a traitor. 

Her pipe and pouch rested on top of her rope tied shirt and breeches. Gale must have known she would sleep in the woods. It wasn’t the only time she’d hidden away. Nor the first time she’d left her clothing, often practicing Peeta’s art in case she was ever reaped again. It was however dangerous to leave her weapons. They’d not used their heads today.

“Are any arrows missing?” Peace keepers had found arrows before and threatened curfews. Cray had even warned about corporal punishment for poaching. Corporal punishment meant public flogging.

“No, thank God.” He moved back out of her way and watched as she navigated around the cave entrance with little difficulty even in the pitch black. He still had trouble finding his way but she acted as though she were born in the dark.

As they found their shared bed roll, she set her items down, picking up her herb pouch to find her flint match case with its cache of butane. Butane that would give four weeks of rations if she needed to sell it. She thought of the poor children who have twenty tesserae at thirteen. Perhaps she should have just given all of her winnings up and jumped from a high fucking cliff. At least then some children wouldn’t be starving, at least she wouldn’t have to watch anyone else die.

“I’ll light the candles.” Haymitch pulled the match and case from her grasp before she did anything stupid and motioned for her to sit with a gentle tug on the old lace, not wanting it to rip.

He searched through the chest and managed to find the metal menorah his mother hid all those years ago when outlying religion had been outlawed. Striking the match he quickly lit a Shabbat taper and placed it in the holder, saying a quick prayer under his breath for his mother’s soul in Gehenna. He didn't pray often, but when he did, he prayed for her soul and her forgiveness.  
The Capitol didn’t like any religion, at least none that went beyond lip service and heavily edited bibles.

“You’re Jewish?” Katniss remembered a little about the old religious beliefs from school. It was still an automatic three years in jail for heretical thoughts. But who in the world beyond Snow would dare confront a Victor, especially a Quell Victor?

“No, but my mother was. I don’t believe in anything but my own skin being here on this miserable rock.” It wasn’t quite true, he occasionally whispered prayers for Katniss and the baker boy’s memory, he wrestled with God and the image that he presented, but belief? He couldn’t be sure.

What god would allow children to die? What future savior would wait for seventy five years while children involuntarily died for sick fucking entertainment. 

He shook his head as he watched her in the candle light, her fingers reaching out to touch where sapphires had been around the Star of David. His mother had pried them out with a pocket knife and a broken and bent teaspoon. All to save his woodworker father from gangrene. Trench foot they called it, from not changing out of wet moldering socks and boots. His father was always afraid someone would steal his work boots.

“Don’t touch it!” He watched her hand snap back, and checked his tone, “It gets really hot.”  
He set the flint down and peeled the gloves from her hands, checking for any signs of a burn.  
When he was satisfied that she was free from injury, he went back to lighting more tapers.  
Soon the cave was dimly lit, all eight tapers in the menorah with a few others scatters around, really nothing more than nubs in clay holders. If he survived, he’d make it better in here, he’d hide away with her… 

He watched her take a pinch of herbs from her pouch and tamp it into her father’s wooden pipe with a practiced hand; lighting it at an angle and watching a cherry red pinpoint of smoldering vegetation suddenly spark to life. She took two short puffs, holding her breath as she passed it to him. The smell was familiar to him, marijuana, often called Green Man’s leaf in the Capitol, or just Green Man.

He took a puff before the cherry spark tried to go out, and then two more, sitting back against the wall of the cave with his head tilted and eyes closed. She removed the pipe from his hand and pulled off the old lace dress, crawling into his lap. 

They sat there together in the dim light not saying a word for at least half an hour, taking in the sound of the water echoing from the cave mouth. His hands moved to trace over her, waiting to see if she would stop him, but she didn’t, instead she encouraged him with her hand over his to continue. 

He traced her as though she were an instrument he’s played for years, he worked her over until she was practically sobbing and rubbing against the rough denim of his knee. He pressed that knee harder into her, giving her the friction she needed and she fell back against his chest crying in release. Then he patted her to get up as he went to grab the old menorah. 

“Wait… Where are you going?” She wobbled on colts feet getting up to follow.

“There’s a thermal vein leading to a hot spring on the south side, bring the whiskey.”

He heard the patter of her feet and the clink of glass against stone as she picked up the brown jug, quickly following him.

“What about something to eat?” 

She had a point, they hadn’t eaten since lunch late that afternoon before Snow called.

“The bag next to the chest has some cheese, dried apples and sausage, get it.”

She padded back to the chest and got it, catching up to him quickly. Prim’s chive cheese, soft and delicious, she could smell it through the cloth. He turned right twice and then veered to the left as the wall cut off in a sudden jut of rock, blocking their easy access. Slipping through a narrow crevice Haymitch disappeared from her view. His hand soon appeared again through the crevice and she was pulled in with little difficulty for her lithe form.

Their small world opened up again as she saw moonlight through the ceiling, the pale glow casting onto a pool of steaming water.

“How long has this been here?”

“Who knows, I discovered it after I came back from the second quell. I wouldn’t sleep in the Victor’s house for a long time. I think I lived out here for three years?” He sounded a little unsure of how much time he had spent hidden away from the world.

“They dragged me back to mentor after the first year, ransacked the hell out of the place every year until I started rigging traps. Soon Snow just ordered me to be at the house for reaping day unless he wanted me in the Capitol. I guess he got tired of replacing peace keepers.”

He set the menorah on a relatively flat surface and stripped naked again, walking to the hot spring, his surprisingly taut and chorded muscles sporting a crown with a bloody knife through the middle on his upper left bicep. He caught her stare and chortled.

“Victor’s tattoo, you’ll be getting one too. It’s required, it contains all your exploits and it’s how you get paid in the Capitol.” Haymitch slipped into the water sighing in relief, as the heat washed over him.

“Your personal choice or Snow’s?” She set the whiskey and food at the waters edge and dipped her toe in to test the water for herself.

“Mine, I wouldn’t let that prick choose anything on my body. What do you think you’ll get?”

She slipped in, wading over in the warmth and comes to rest beside him. “I’m using the mockingjay.” She said it with little hesitation, watching his eyebrow lift in amusement.

“Add my crown above it, he hates it. Finnick added it last year above his trident, Beetee is due to get it done as well.” At her confusion he clarified, “Other victors, a symbol of solidarity or maybe defiance.”

She thought for a moment, “Do you get along with the other victors?”

“Some, others I wouldn’t get near without a weapon.” Haymitch pulled a worn metal tin closer and opened it to reveal a cake of goats milk soap and a straight razor. As he lathered up his face, she watched him flick the razor with a deft hand. Traps and knives. She knew now why he was a victor and would have been even without the axe against the force field.

“Stick with them.” 

“Already planned to sweetheart, Beetee Latier is the best in the biz with electronics. Killed his competition by electricity nine times out of ten. He and his wife Laura Wiress already count me among their allies. She won in 42, he won in 36, both of them are from Three. He was her mentor, they went through the college too.”

Talking of the games already gave her a tight feeling in her throat, almost as if she were being choked from within. 

“We have two months and thirteen days before Reaping Day. If you can’t accept the possibility of losing me, we’ll stop this now. I’m nearly forty-one Katniss, it’s a miracle I’ve lived this long. So let’s get one thing straight. This feeling… this right here. It’s exactly what they want. For you to grow so attached you can’t breathe without your tribute next to you. It’s the method many people don’t choose for exactly this reason. You can love me, you can fuck me, but always keep one important thing in the back of your mind. I am replaceable.”  
She watched as he nicked himself, his hand shaking.

“Ahh,” he hissed as she took the razor away and washed away the soap.

“If Peeta had lived, it would have been him going through this or I would have volunteered if he would have let me. We wouldn’t have had any of this.” He gestured around them as she waded across, lifting off of her feet and floating.

“Peeta didn’t live and even if he had, I wouldn’t have let him go.” She stared up at the sky through the copse of oak trees and evergreens ringing the opening, stalagmites hundreds of years old pointing down toward the pool. If Peeta had lived… If only she had been faster and not hesitated to kill Cato before he slashed poor Peeta’s throat, maybe their farce would have become real.

“Either way. He would have died sweetheart, you wouldn’t have had a choice, Snow doesn’t give choices, it’s his way or no one’s way.”

Reaching the other side of the pool she stood up and grabbed the jug, taking a long pull after removing the cork. It wasn’t white whiskey, it was straight moonshine bordering on methanol.

“Fuck!” She coughed heavily, “How is your liver not dead yet?”

“Capitol Medical Corps Kat, it wouldn’t do to have the audience see a sickly victor dying of self induced cancer. I’ve had a cloned liver twice now. It’s how they keep training tributes alive before the games if a fight breaks out and even moreso in the mock mentor games.”

“They don’t even give you the choice to die? It seems Snow’ll do anything to trot you out year after year.”

“Have another sip. It grows on you after a while. Your father taught it to me, he said they called it Grappa, made in a place called Italy before the old countries fell.”

“Were you friends?”

“No, but we did have an understanding, if something happened to him, part of my money would go to support your mother. She and May were best friends. Your friend Madge is her niece. Besides, I don’t think your father would have approved of my sleeping with his nearly eighteen year old daughter.”

“He wouldn’t have had a say, a Victor receives emancipation the moment they’re chosen. Minor status doesn’t apply anymore, not when they’re shipping you off to die.” 

“Isn’t that the truth,” he swam over grabbing the jug from her grip and tossed it back like a true Appalachian Hob hobo, two fingers and a thumb gripping the small ringed handle, letting it dangle down when he finished; as though he were going to let it fall in a drunken stupor. And perhaps he was drunk again. She too felt the pleasant warmth in her belly and the clouded dusty fog settling over her mind.

“The games let you know just how much you can handle, but they never prepare you for going back home to normal life. Perhaps that’s why they made mentors in the tenth game. All the victors were trying to die. They had no one who could understand. In a sick way I look forward to seeing other Victors, we’ve shared bloodshed. We know what it’s like to wake up screaming.”  
He set the jug down as he whispered the last part in her ear, turning her face to his.

She let him kiss her, his body moulding itself to hers, his erection pressing insistently at her lower back, inexplicably aroused. He kissed her deeply, taking what he could get, and moaned at her enthusiastic response. 

“Tomorrow we start training in Krav Maga.” 

He lifted her slightly and turned her as though she weighed nothing, slipping inside with a thrust between her legs, giving her little time to adjust to his forceful movements as he used his hands to hold her up, her legs automatically wrapping about him. She took every thrust, her arms thrown possessively over his shoulders, her hands gripping over his back, nails digging in.

“That’s it,” the water sloshed heavily against the stone basin’s edge, threatening to soak the food. He shoved it way and forced her eyes back to his. “I’m the only thing you think about, total immersion. Total synchronicity Katniss. Total… ahh… Devotion.”

She felt an overwhelming cascade of emotion at the word devotion. Fear, love, and anger all at once. Why were they all forced to seek solace in one another?

As if he knew her thoughts, he answered, “Because we’re all pawns in a game they play.”


	3. Master Manipulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haymitch and Katniss grow closer as the time draws near to them leaving District Twelve for mentor college, but everything isn't as clear as it appears to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a great chapter to write. I loved the back and forth between Haymitch and Katniss. I feel things are really building.

====================================================================

When she made her way back to the house, she found Prim waiting for her with an oil lamp in hand despite the sun starting to rise. She didn't say a word to Haymitch who sauntered by with all the delicateness of a drunken pole cat. She did however wrinkle her nose at the obvious smell of sex and alcohol.

“I’ll meet you for training at Two pm in the field.” His bastard act is back in place, his words echoing in her mind _‘We’re all pawns in a game they play. Remember, I am replaceable.’_  
His door slams shut and she hears a bottle break against the window as he throws it, the pane shattering.

“Since when have you been sleeping with Haymitch?” Prim ushers her inside, taking her quiver and bow. Pressing at the knot in the third floorboard beneath the throw rug, a compartment pops up, courtesy of Cinna’s design. Prim lowers the bow onto the hook and insets the quiver below before pushing the compartment back down into the floor and replacing the rug.

“Since he’s the only other one who understands what the game is like.”

“Katniss, you should have a cup of pennyroyal and mugwort.”

To prevent any pregnancy…

She didn't want to think of a child, waving Prim away with her fussing she continued, "Snow’s called me to mentor in the quell. Haymitch is automatically being selected. You aren’t allowed to volunteer for the female tribute. And your name isn’t going to be counted anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Astra Everdeen came down the stairs with Buttercup in her arms, the loud and bitchy Maine coon looking self satisfied.

“I’ve come to an agreement with Snow about this year’s game and next year. In return for my going early to train as a new mentor with Haymitch, Prim’s name is being taken out of circulation as a possible tribute. If I mentor Hyamitch and he comes home as a victor for the third time, Prim’s name will be removed permanently.

“So he’s having them choose from the victor pool, but you’re the only female victor since Lucy Baird.”

“They’re choosing the lottery, same as always. Prim can’t volunteer.”

“But what’s this about pennyroyal and mugwort? Are you pregnant?”  
“No momma.”

“But you’ve been sleeping with someone without protection, is it Gale, Katniss? Oh I taught you better than that.”

“No momma! It isn’t Gale.” She went to walk past as Prim spoke up,”It’s Haymitch.”

“Katniss… he’s far to old.”

“You and daddy were sixteen years apart on the eve of your hand fasting. I don’t want to hear about age.”

“Katniss!”

“Momma stop! He’s been in the game, he and I both know what it’s like to kill.”

Her mother stopped talking at her mentioning the game, knowing she had no room to speak about Katniss in the arena. She’d been lucky not to have been chosen despite all of her ration tags for tesserae when she was younger. 

“He ruined my best friend Maysilee’s life when he let her leave. His tribute Cassia died a year later, three days in. I can count on one hand the amount of times his tributes have ever survived, once. I say let the tables be turned. If you won’t be smart then at least you’ll get a portion for his child when he dies!” Her mother didn’t yell, she merely sobbed as she sat on the stairs.

“I’m not May.” 

“You could have fooled me.” She watched her mother dry her tears on the sleeves of her long housecoat.

“You knew she loved him.”

Buttercup jumped out of her arms, swishing his tail, agitated at Astra’s emotional distress.  
He walked over jumping up into Prim’s open arms and made an attempt to swipe at Katniss’ gloved hands.

“I’m not afraid to turn you into a cap.” She watched Prim usher him to the sitting area and sit as they continued to speak.

“Of course I knew. I saw the same look in your eyes the night he got you to stop tearing your hands apart.”

Katniss had tried to forget about picking and rubbing her hands raw, biting her nails down to stubs. That was when he held her down and trimmed them to the point where she couldn’t get her teeth up under them. She remembered the frantic call to Cinna that Effie made: _“Oh Cinna they’ll be just awful for the tour, we can’t have the President see her hands like this. Could you whip something fabulous up darling?”_

He’d shown up the next morning with Portia, Haymitch having bandaged her hands himself. The gloves were soft, lined with a cooling gel that could be put in the ice chest. She’d worn them the entire tour until her hands had only faint lines on them. There were nights she still wanted to peel the skin off. That was until Haymitch touched them.

Perhaps she did feel something other than the need for physical companionship but right now she needed to sleep. She walked through to the kitchen and pulled open the apothecary cupboard, pulling out the numbing cream and sleeping pills. The cream contained devil’s claw and capsaicin. Peeling off the gloves she shuddered at the phantom image of blood suddenly overlaying itself in her mind’s eye. The urge to throw up making her mouth water as she ran to the sink.

She’d been free from an attack all day as long as he was by her side, even drunk as a skunk inside of her was better than being without his comfort. Emptying her stomach of its contents didn’t make the image go away but the nausea lessened as she forced herself back out the door and across the short distance to his home.

Finding the door unlocked, she evaded Evangeline the demon goose and climbed the stairs to his bedroom, avoiding empty cans and bottles as she went. The door was ajar with him sitting there watching Caesar Flickerman.

“Miss me already? Luckily I know your walk chickadee or you’d be a head shorter.” He didn’t even turn his head away from the holo projector, he just patted the sloppily made bed.  
Stripping down again she slipped beneath the covers and went to rest her head on his shoulder but he stopped her.

“Take a small dose,” he gestured to the morphling bottle on the dresser no doubt stolen from her mother’s store, “It’ll help you sleep.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Well you sure need something.” He looks down at her hands rubbing sharply together and pulls them apart, gripping them fast as he holds them tightly in his lap.

“Take some or I can tie your hands up so you don’t get the urge to ruin them again in the night. Trinket will have my head if she sees that I’ve let you hurt yourself again.”

She got up, pulling the glass bottle labeled Morphet from his dresser and made sure he saw her taking a larger does than called for.

“You’re gonna be flying high with that amount sweetheart.”

“At least I won’t wake up with night terrors.”

“You’ll wake up with more of an addiction than the ones you’ve already got.”

Katniss didn’t answer but mocked him with a false smile and a fake cheers motion with the bottle before slamming it back down on the dresser and sliding her naked body under the covers.

His body was warm, the smell of the cave hot spring still on his skin with a hint of pine, naked just as hers was. He didn’t say a word as they hear talk of the upcoming reaping. They did’t even make fun of Caesar’s hair, they sat there resigned in the silence of each other’s company. 

Haymitch soon rolled over and reached into the beer bottle riddled night stand pulling out a small dagger. Pressing it into her palm he shut the light off.  
“Just in case I try to hurt you.”

As she lay there with the sun starting to come through moth eaten curtains, the morphling hit. The warmth suddenly felt cocoon like. When Haymitch rolled over, partly on top of her, she adjusted to his sleeping hand possessively grabbing her breast. She shifted to adapt to him. His weight was heavy against her chest, the press of his knee spreading her legs, his mouth though slack sometimes suckled at her collar bone as though wishing to drink. Yet, it was not unwelcome nor unwanted.  
Drifting to sleep happened easier than it had been in months, nightmares fading into wisps of random nonsense.  
===================================================================  
She woke to find Haymitch standing over her and lunged for the knife in an automatic sense of danger. Unsheathing it before he yelled for her to stop, causing him to drop the one good coffee mug he had.

“Katniss! I’m not here to hurt you!” But he knew her mind was seeing him as a threat, words not getting through. She was still drugged, he could see it in her weary eyes as she leapt back off of the bed with the knife gripped downward in her left fist. 

He held his hands up, palms out with his right foot up on the ball while his left was forward. If she ran at him, he’d use a front kick with a left hand block. He’d add a right cross if he had to but Effie would murder him if he fucked up her face.  
Perhaps he could talk her down. 

“Kat, darlin’… It’s Haymitch. I don’t have anything on me to hurt you right now. I’m sorry I woke you like that. We can get a new mug.” We, why he was starting to imagine nights and days with her? His mind answered for him.

_“Because she’s the first person to treat you like a human being in years for whatever demented reason.”_

He continued to wait, allowing her to see that he wasn’t a threat. Overall he just prayed he wouldn’t have to hurt her. Finally, after an eternity later she blinked hard and looked at his white shirt now stained light brown and then to the knife in her hand.

“Oh my god…” The knife clattered to the floor as she gasped out her apologies.

“Hey, hey it’s alright.”

“I COULD HAVE KILLED YOU!” She shouted at him in alarm.

“That’s kinda the point of the knife,” he watched her panting in an effort to calm her racing heart but only succeeding in hyperventilating. Then it hit him, the woods, a safe space for both of them.

“Breathe slow doll face, through the nose, hold it for three, and and let it out slow. Go back to the woods sweetheart, close your eyes and imagine the chill of the winter air. It’s just you and the wilderness. Feel the crunch of the snow under your feet. See your breath when you breathe out.”

She sat on the bed, gripping the worn sheets as she breathed out raggedly. She looked far older than seventeen. When she opened her eyes she leaned over to pick up the knife and set it down on the bed, “You never should have given me the knife.”

“And what if I’d snapped on you? I’ve had thirty five years of training under my belt. I’m not always drunk and I’m not always ‘friendly old mentor Haymitch’ drunk. You’d have needed that knife high or not if I came after you.”

“I don’t want to be like this.”  
“None of us do Katniss, we never wanted to live to see such times but sometimes all you can do is move forward with the time you have left.”  
“But how do we move forward when they keep dragging us back in?”

He moved slowly as he watched her shoulders slump, her acute hyper vigilance settled for the time being.  
“You aren’t alone, I want you to know that.” He sat down behind her, far enough away for her to have breathing room but near enough so she could touch him if she needed to.

Peeling off the ruined shirt he used it to wipe away the remnant of coffee on his chest and threw it into the overflowing can of Capitol letters and whiskey bottles. He should clean up if she was going to be stopping by more often. He could hear his mother complaining in his inner ear to make good impression, which is something he specifically went out of his way to not do. He could care less about a good impression when he was always under the guillotine. Yet, his mind envisioned for a brief moment what it would be like to come home to someone who genuinely wanted him.

“Did you still want a cup of coffee? Mrs. Mellark sent a pot over along with some iced buns.”

The town had always been good to him with the exception of a few, he was the technically the third victor since the traveling singer Lucy Baird; yet essentially the second victor from Twelve since his mentor Rummage Lorman. Those who lost their children despised him but held a grudging respect, especially now that Katniss had won. 

“I thought your last cup just broke,” she motioned to the mess of coffee and ceramic.

“I think I have a metal one we can share.” He had the urge to reach out and touch her but settled on tossing her his shirt from the previous evening.  
=====================================================================

After coffee, he watched her sneak back barefoot to her empty house to grab new clothing, the sun shining off of her toned legs. She stood for a moment before entering and looked out over the landscape as though she would never see it again, her eyes coming back to rest on his.  
He’d been with plenty of women in his life since Maysilee Donner, but no one captured his attention like Katniss.  
He found himself wondering if he should just call it off. If he should tell Snow to give her another tribute to mentor. The thought of having someone still relatively clean, someone still able to find passion and see the good, it scared him that he would make her soul as black as his.

Watching her come back in the training outfit from the Capitol didn’t surprise him in the least. His own training gear sat waiting and ready, haunting him in a chest with all of his large weapons. He briefly wondered if Snow held her Arena uniform like he did with Finnick’s and his.

Speaking of weapons. He motioned for her to come back into the house and walked to the living room. There on the left hand wall sat an old oak chest with a modern Identlock. If it weren’t for the Victor’s Law preventing him from selling or destroying his ‘Exploit Items’ he wouldn’t even have weapons anymore. Regular citizens were forbidden from owning any weaponry unless training to work with peace keepers.

He stepped in front of the chest and waited, hands still at his side as the beam comes out of the lock, spreading over his body in a grid fashion. It passed over his body twice, once from the front and again from the side when he turned.

_“Welcome Haymitch Abernathy, Second Quell Victor, year 2025. The odds are ever in your favor.”_

“I hate that phrase, fuck the odds.”

_“Response not recognized, please repeat request.”_

“I said open the fucking training set.” He walked away grabbing the flask on the coffee table and took a swig. The chest opened with a hiss , trays moving within until finally the carbon fiber training swords and knives came up along with a row of headgear and boxing gloves.

“You never used any other weapons besides your bow and a small knife in the games. I used all of these. Of course these are practice weapons, the others are locked down unless I activate the tray. Pick what you feel comfortable with.”

Her black gloved hand brushed against an extremely curved sword that almost looked like a question mark.

“We had these in the arena, nasty at taking legs and heads, one of the Careers in Cato’s group had a pair.”

“Those are called Khopesh. They’re made for horse throwing and close quarters combat, from the Old World.” Haymitch came to stand next to her, his hip pressing against hers as he leaned over her to take one.

“Choose another.”

Katniss’ hands linger over a pair of straight swords with hooks curving at the top, curved handle guards facing out.

“Chinese hook swords, too awkward for your first lessons.”

“Which would you choose then? They’re your weapons, shouldn’t you be picking them?”

“I want you to choose them because you and I both need to be familiar. You need to explain to the sponsors about every move I make if they want to hear it, sometimes even demonstrate for an interview. You become an open book of knowledge about the tribute you mentor, from their favorite foods to their relationships. You literally are the only person who knows them better than their own mother.”  
Haymitch pointed to a long sword with a rounded pommelled guard, “That one is good, Viking long sword, pretty lightweight.”

“You never did this with us, you barely trained us at all.”

“I didn’t care to and it nearly cost you sponsorship. After the costumes, at first they all thought an arrow and throwing metal weights around was child’s play but then you shot the apple and Peeta made you look desirable. Then I thought I had a chance and you proved me right.”

Along with the viking sword she pulled out a few throwing knives along with daggers. Then watched as he closed the tray and engaged another. This time choosing two round shields made of metal and rivets.

“These won’t cut but the ones in the mock games and the arena will. Chest end selection session.”

=====================================================================

Their training session in the meadow began with hand to hand combat in the style of Krav Maga, according to Haymitch it was a fighting style of the old world founded by one of his mother’s peoples in the 1930s in a country known as Czechoslovakia. It was designed to function as the ultimate way to use and redirect an opponent’s strength against him.

Haymitch started with stances, both basic and fighting, but soon rolled into guards and punches. He was knocking brutally into her chest with a palm heel strike following through with a closed fisted punch to her lower chest in quick succession. It caused her to fall to the grass gasping hard for air and coughing.

“Always guard your face and turn so I don’t hit the target area effectively enough,” his hand reached out to help her up but Katniss attempted pull him down by grabbing it and sweeping his rear leg. He managed not to collapse on her as he threw his front foot out to the side and swung his rear leg across. He then shifted pushing his body so that it spun above and landed behind her. From there his body went into a seated position, wrenching her arm in a painful twist before suddenly changing tactics in order to avoid breaking her humorous. His foot pressed heavily without warning as he slid his hand up her arm in an overhanded method until he hooked his elbow and grabbed her wrist with his left to pull her arm taught.

“Don’t move or I’ll break your shoulder.” His voice was cold and calculating, the pressure on her shoulder increased until she went limp.

“What did you do wrong?”

Katniss had no idea. The pain in her shoulder was starting to radiate down her arm and her chest felt on fire.

“You could have lifted up and done a heel kick to my mid chest or face but we haven’t gotten there yet. You’re rushing, you rush everything Everdeen. Take a breather for a minute.”

============================================

She stopped going home, preferring to invade his house and his bed, cleaning along the way much to his dismay. His reputation with Hazelle as her worst client would be ruined. And yet he found he liked it, they'd gotten into an easy routine of training or researching in the morning and drinking in the evening, to end up in bed with frantic touches. Haymitch found she gave as good as she got, forcing him to accept everything wasn't a lie. He did still wonder if it was a phase. He’d woken up four days later to find her studying over his mentor manuals, her body glistening from the heat of that heady May morning.  
He looked around the room to find it organized, gone were the moth eaten curtains, the bottles, and the old bloody bandages

“What happened with Cassia? She had every opportunity to escape the pit trap.”

“It’s known as a trou de loup, the wolf trap, or a punji pit. If you look at how she fell, she tried to avoid it. I underestimated the area it covered. She stepped too far right. The covering went down like a house of cards. She fell and landed on the spike. it went through the meat of her thigh and unknown to me lodged splinters. They had urine and feces coating the outer layer of the bamboo,” he paused for a moment, “She died of infection. Not a very glamorous way to die is it?

“Peeta wouldn’t have survived as long as he did without the medicine you had sent. You became a better mentor from her death.”

“It still didn’t save his ass in the end and that’s my fault for not teaching you this last year. I was drunk and tired of doing this year after year. It’s a miracle you even came home.”

He pushed the papers away, pulling over a drawing pad from the miraculously clean nightstand and began to sketch.

“This is a punji pit,” Katniss could see where he drew two variants with exacting and terrifying detail, “you see here where the cover texture changes, how it seems to dimple and bow downward in one spot?” He drew yet another angle this time with a woman walking near the edge, testing for solid ground with her foot. “I should have made her use the walking stick to feel.” He draws a third image of the woman falling and trying to hold herself up with terrified eyes peering over the edge. The next image series showed her falling on her side and landing heavily on the spikes.

“If you look for any shift in landscape, the ground looks too full, or an area bows either upward or downward dramatically, chances are you’ve found some sort of trap. You know that, but these pits are designed to really blend in. That’s why you use a walking stick or something to test it.”  
She avoided pressing him for more information and instead suggested they spar.

He’d been drinking less lately, working with her in the mornings until she managed a spinning heel kick to the side of his head following through on the inside with an elbow blow to the jaw. It knocked him out cold for at least two minutes, giving her time to have the Khopesh at his throat.

He couldn’t be more proud as he kissed her fiercely, knowing that her mother could see them across the square.

In the afternoon Cinna came to show her the sketches and dresses that she would be wearing along with Haymitch’s suits and the arena outfit. However, when he saw her bruised body he launched into a tirade.

“I have to get her camera ready and her whole body is covered in bruises! How am I supposed to work with this? Portia get me the med kit. Abernathy you’re the one going in, not her. What were you thinking?” Cinna’s anger was a torrent of disappointment as Portia covered over the bruised areas with a pale green cream and a gel like covering bandage similar to that in Katniss’ gloves.

“Cinna, I asked him to teach me, mentors need to know what their tributes know.”

“Mentors only need to explain the tactic, they don’t need to show how to execute it. They give advice and suggestion to the tribute, that’s all!”

“And think of how little sponsorship she’ll get for her tribute, besides what if she gets reaped again someday? It’s better to go on with new techniques and be prepared than to hope that your older techniques will still hold out!”

Haymitch turned back to Katniss, gesturing in frustration. “Do you want to stop? Because right now he’s advising you to sit down and look beautiful when in reality Mentors are designed to be manipulators. Mentors are showboats when they aren’t heading to mentor college, when they aren’t mentoring in the games. Mentors guide their tribute to being a victor by being of one mind!”

“You would know about manipulation,” Astra Everdeen spoke up as Effie walked in with Prim, “Snow said you were the one who suggested she go to the college.”


	4. Are We Wolves or Prince Charming?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Katniss runs from speaking with her mother, she and Haymitch become more intimate, intimate enough where he has a plan. But what if this plan makes Katniss vulnerable to Snow and is it a ruse or is it real? Barely two months remain before Reaping day. Can Haymitch and Katniss survive the brutality of Mentor college, the Capitol and the Hunger Games?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is definitely different from the storyline the movie brings but I just hope someone likes it. Show me some love and I'll check out your stuff!

=====================================================================

“What?” The room was silent suddenly with the exception of Katniss’ confusion. “Momma, what are you talking about?  
“I’m talking about him sending you off to become…” Astra shook her head, “I know the stories, I remember. Snow told me how he agreed to send you, how he would convince you…” She looked at Haymitch with utter hatred.

“Everyone else get out,” Haymitch’s voice took on a hard edge, “Out!”

Cinna and Effie looked back at Katniss with tumultuous expressions that weren’t easily readable, expressions she was sure mirrored her own. The door closed quietly leaving them there in the uneasy tension that one could cut with a knife.

“Did you want them both to die?” His voice was quiet, measured and devoid of emotion, “Because that’s what would have happened.”

“You can’t know that,” Astra scoffed walking into the kitchen as they followed.

“Snow’s had the game plan for months perhaps years based on the information I’ve gotten. I’ll let you know something, he was considering pinning Victors against those closest to them in a double reaping. You think I just woke up one day and decided to toss myself back in for the fun of it? Do you seriously think for one second that I want to kill either of your daughters? or Gale? I’ve already lived, but they haven’t. Could you sit there and watch me bury a knife in them to survive? No? Then this was the best option. Me and a random tribute go down instead of your daughters against their own blood and friends.”

“So you’re being noble by making my daughter into a whore. Thank you so much for that.” The sarcasm dripped from her voice like poison.

“Your daughter won’t be a whore, she’ll be elite, able to be unseen unless she wants something. Katniss will be able to bring Victors home to Twelve, learn secrets that can benefit your family and allow you to live above reproach! Don’t you see? In the next two games, you won’t have to see their names in the sky. It’ll be finished for your family if we can win! This saves them!”

“As long as she does what he wants, having to trade secrets and live a lie. And if you think he won’t sell her to the highest bidder… I’ve seen the massive fund raisers he puts on for the games, watched Finnick Odair stand there while people bid for his company. A night with a victor, dinner and dancing? Please spare me the bullshit.”

“Momma, I don’t want Prim to die. I don’t want Gale to die either.” 

“Katniss, you can’t be sure they’ll be chosen.” Her mother stood there counting the bottles in the apothecary store. Then pulled out dried burdock root and the mortar and pestle.

“I can’t take that chance.” 

“So he’s going to teach you how to help others become murderers so we’ll be free.”

“I ALREADY AM A MURDERER! They’re being forced into this just like I was! God damnit momma, there is no choice in Panem! There is no freedom! We don’t just suddenly choose to get off the ride half way through. So let me do this! Let me try to save as many people as I can.”

“Fine…” her mother’s voice granted capitulation as she pushed the roots away in disgust and looked out the window, “Fine.”

Katniss went to hug her mother, but Astra turned from her touch, “He’ll ruin you Katydid, he’ll ruin you just like he ruined May. Only this time he’ll be the one to go off to die.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to pick myself up again just like I did when daddy died.”  
“Kat, that isn’t fair.” Haymitch grabbed her arm as she made for the back door but she twisted up and out of his hold, slipping out to run across the field.

“If you survive and you hurt my daughter, I’ll make sure you die a painful death and no one will ever be able to figure out how I did it. Understand Mr. Abernathy, if you convince my daughter you love her and you break her heart, or if she gets caught up in your machinations, you will never escape me.”

“ An ancient writer once said a little poison now and then: that makes for pleasant dreams. And a lot of poison at the end, for a pleasant death.” He paused, looking her straight in the eye, “There isn’t anything you could do to me that I don’t already want to do to myself.”  
===========================================================

He found her in the cave entrance practicing kicks and punches beneath the flow of the water pounding on her back from the recent storms overflowing the mountain stream.

“Katniss! Kat!” She didn’t acknowledge him, her hair plastered to her skull, her uniform showing every crease and curve of her body. So he sat and watched, pulling her seldom used tobacco jar from the stone shelf behind him, finding it almost empty.

“You’ve been smoking more than just Green Man. This shit’ll kill you!” He smiled ruefully as he took a paper and rolled the last of it into a short fag, lighting it up and taking a drag. It was sweet, Greasy Sae’s Sweet Leaf.

“We’re all dead already!” He heard the chill in her voice rattling through to her bones, “Besides isn’t that what the Capitol Med is for? To keep the Victor looking shiny and new? If only they could see what we see.”

“Would you get out of the water before you freeze to death?” He walked over pulling her out of the water with little resistance, her sopping wet frame shivering against him. She looked up holding his gaze.

“Are you going to ruin me?”  
“And there’s the salt in the wound, your mother saying it is one thing but you asking…” He already knew that he was damned to destroy everything he touched.  
“Look, your mother’s right, I burn everything I put my hands on despite you already being on fire.”  
He smirked sarcastically as she stole the fag from his hand.  
“I destroy, that’s what I do.” He thought a moment about the path they were going down, knowing that they would have to get closer.  
“But I can make sure you have the protection you need, teach you how not to get eaten up inside by them. All you have to do is show them you can protect me.”

“It’s like wolves.” She finally understood the reasoning for their bond. It wasn’t a weapon against themselves or a weakness in the mentor college. If anything, Tribute and Mentor bonding was the beginning of an army.

“Think of it any way you want. But if you’re looking for magic, there’s a reason Prince Charming is only in fairytales sweetheart.”

“Fairytales?” She looked perplexed as he began to peel her wet clothes from her body.

“Stories that have a lesson or a reasoning behind them.” Haymitch had a desire to dig out the old leather-bound copy of Grimm’s Brother’s Fairy Tales in his memory chest, Most citizens of Panem had never seen a book outside of the sanctioned government material of the Capitol.

“Who’s Prince Charming?” She tilted her head in a curious manner not unlike his brother, and for a moment he felt a pang in his chest and the urge to answer ‘Someone who loves you very much.’ When his protection for her evolved into desire he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it had been that night when she shoved him into the wall, coming within an inch of his mouth. Perhaps it had been their conversation on the roof. 

It didn’t matter in reality, in two months and nine days he would be dead. Only a miracle would save the older victors from the hands of death. However he answered her query with no complaint as he watched her finish the cigarette. 

“Prince Charming is the one who saves a poor woman and gives her a life free from servitude. She doesn’t want for anything ever again.”

“Does that make us our own Prince Charming?” She laughed and he knew she was trying to bring levity to the situation.

“I guess it does.” He left it simple, but part of him wanted to address the fact that her mother knew the possibility of her daughter having to sell herself. However, he didn’t need to wait long as he felt he bare skin shift over his, her breasts at his back as she kissed his neck.

“She think’s I’ll be a whore, does Snow really force that?” He could hear the fear in her voice, somehow knowing that a life being used as a sex object would be worse than dying for her district.”

“Popular victors have certain inalienable rights, no bodily harm, no force, and no exposure. I said you would be above reproach, and you will be.” 

“Am I above reproach with you?”

“Always,” he felt her grab his hand, her thumb rubbing over his scarred knuckles, pulling him slightly backwards.

“Haymitch,” He loved his name on her lips, it didn’t feel like a curse anymore, “come to bed.”  
===================================================================

As they lay there in the darkness, he talked of his mother, of simpler times when the games weren’t at the forefront of everyday news. Back when it wasn’t entertainment but rather the true solemn sacrifice it had originally been purposed as. He remembered her telling him when the televising of the game had been optional viewing, back when there had been holidays and happiness. Back before every citizen had been required to register.

“I want to go back there, I want to go back to the time when I could be innocent. Or at least to a time when I could remember when I lost it.”

“What about your father?” Haymitch paused to light the candles and join her once more. In the dim light as he fiddled with his father’s whittling knife. It was a fine piece, enameled with deep red porcelain featuring a black stallion, not worth much to those outside the trade but everything to him. 

“My father was a very complicated man. He was older than my mother, she was plain and had good hips according to him. Then there was the common look for the merchants. My mother’s eyes bordered on blue, her hair was blonde but it had red to it in the sunlight. He on the other hand was plain and tall with hair like mine.”

“Like my mother.” Katniss murmured. Merchant to Seam marriages weren’t uncommon in Twelve these days, but back during the war recovery, it was relatively unheard of for the richer class to marry into the mountain families.

“He stole my mother from her bed. Bride capturing.”

Everything fell into place. Bride capturing had been outlawed in 2035 after the loss of a young Seam boy and his brother in a fire the Mellark family started over the loss of a now distant aunt; a year after Haymitch was born.

“He was a good man, lonely but good, until she ran when I was ten, left me and my brother behind. She fell in love with a weaver. My father’d given up everything when her family demanded a bridal price and she’d gotten no chance to speak up. After he lost his foot to gangrene, he couldn’t work his job in the mines, woodworking just didn’t bring in the money here. After so many years of struggling, who wouldn’t want to leave the first chance they got? She loved me but apparently not enough to stay. They transferred to Eight after she contested the marriage. I never saw her again. She saved his life but couldn’t save me. After the games, they were found and murdered. My home was set on fire and my mother was poisoned.

He rolled over, reached into the chest and pulled out a worn velvet pouch. “This is the only thing my father got her that she cherished.” He poured the contents into her hand and brushed his fingers over the floating opal, “He built up three years of tesserae as a teenager to get something for a future wife and she didn’t even take it when she left. So… I want someone I care about to wear it for me.”

“It’s beautiful…” She ran her finger over the fine hammered gold flower petals holding the glass vial of opal in place, the filigree chain trailed up to amethysts, amber, and turquoise set inside a little golden bird. 

“She loved birds. Before he captured her, he used to show her where to watch for them. He had these gems put in after they went panning when she was fifteen, he said that was when he fell in love with her. Three months later he brought her home. So, if I’m going to die in the arena, I want you to take care of this for me.” Haymitch took the necklace and fastened its petite chain about her throat, “Think of it as a token.”

==================================================================

The next evening, Katniss walked back from the woods with a brace of rabbits in her game bag. She had been intending to take the leisurely way home when Gale came around the corner from the brick gateway to the town square.

"Catnip... Where've you been? I haven't seen you in weeks! Oh my god, come here!" Gale dropped his rucksack as she jumped into his arms crying. It felt good to be home, but she knew she would never be free.

"Hey, why are you crying?" He gently soothed her, his hand so different from Haymitch's.

"I'm just glad to be home... anyway... sorry, I thought about something on the way back." Katniss stepped out of his arms and straightened he jacket.

"I think I'll take over the snare run for a little while, it's something to do when I'm not training."

"I heard you and Mr. Abernathy were working together, some sort of special school for mentors according to the gossip." He looked down at her throat seeing the floating opal resting there between her breasts. "Katniss... why are you wearing a betrothal necklace?"

"It's complicated." She touched the bird above the opal lightly.

"Try uncomplicating it?" Gale rested his forehead against hers.

"I can't..."

Then Gale leaned down, closing the space between them without warning and kissed her. When he let her go she stood there shocked.

"I had to do that at least once."

"Gale I can't."

"I know."

=====================================================================

The next two weeks flew by with little in the way of leisure time, and as she left her mother held her tight before whispering in her ear, “Come home to me, I don’t care if you want him… just come home.”  
Prim tried to say goodbye but could only wipe away her tears as she pressed the mockingjay pin back into her hand.

Haymitch pushed her to the point where she hoped to kill him herself. As the train hurled towards the Capitol, he seemed relentless in training her. In the onboard training car, he'd been pushing her since sun up.

“Come on! You’ve got to anticipate more! Use your eyes, feel the vibration of my feet! You’ve done this with a deer.” 

“We’ve been practicing since seven, we need a break!”

“One more time and we’re done for the day. Try and flip me before I get my hand around your neck, remember tuck the chin down, grab the lower arm with the left. The wrist is grabbed with the right. Side step to the left, elbow up to the side of my face and bend to use my own weight against me. Keep going until you feel me start to tip and use your shoulder to leverage me onto my back.

Katniss stood there listening as he engaged the lights to dim, everything so quiet except for her breathing, pulse steady in her ear.  
From the rear left she heard flesh brush almost imperceptibly across the training mat, it was uneven but unmistakable. Though he was alternating his gait to favor his right, he was a true southpaw. She felt his arm slide across without hesitation as she tucked her chin and grabbed him. Rotating her shoulder, she felt her elbow impact his cheek, his vulnerability exposed in a painful grunt. She bent forward lifting him from ground. He tried to regain his footing, but it was too late as he found himself propelled to the floor.

“Yes!” She watched him laugh through catching his breath, “Yes! Finally.”

Feeling her body spent from hours of fighting, she collapsed next to him. Bone weary she looked at him with the hopeful anticipation of food and rest but thought better of it. Her tribute would have no rest in the games.

“So what do we do next?

“We eat. I doubt you can go another round.” Haymitch took her outstretched hand and thought a moment about pulling her to him but the training room was monitored by the Capitol live feed.

“Caesar will have that playing on repeat tonight. The 74th and 50th Hunger Games Victors getting ‘seriously close’.” 

“Oh yeah… I won’t hear the end of it from Johanna when we get to Tribute Center.”

They stood up and dusted off, ending the session with the computer as he pulled her into the unmonitored corridor between carriages.

“You need to be careful what you say in these areas, everything is monitored except for our rooms and the space between carriages.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tired body against his as though he could absorb strength through her.

“Is she taking part in training?”

“No, she and Finnick are… a part of Snow’s service.”

“A Capitol whore,” she breathed.

“Snow prefers to call them Larks. It’s different when you have family to protect, Snow’s orders can protect you, but they say nothing about hurting your family.”

“So we just have to do as he commands and say nothing? While he uses us?” Haymitch suddenly pushed her up against a support beam and leaned down to speak softly into her ear.

“You won’t understand unless he forces you into that position. Don’t talk against him, not when his eyes and ears are everywhere. Even though this corridor may be safer, we need to always watch our backs.” She felt his lips brush against the shell of her ear, moving down her jaw.”

“Meet me later tonight.” As they moved apart, she caught his lips in a chaste kiss and quickly resumed walking to the dining car. As they entered they saw Effie in her usual voluminous and loud fashion of a muted rose pink and gold. It was complete with a golden peony and rose pink wig. Her lavender lips pursed and pink shadowed eyes narrowed.

“You’ve been in there since early this morning, you can’t have been training all this time, it’s been over five hours! One must rest and reflect Haymitch.”

“We’ve done plenty of resting and reflecting for twenty five years my friend. We don’t have time to rest anymore.”

“Friend… you haven’t called me that since we were children,” She blushed slightly, “no matter, for the last three days I’m having the computer lower your training allowance. You’ll have time to perfect anything you need to in the next two months. You don’t want to expose all your secrets do you?”

“We’ve still got some surprises to reveal. You can’t imagine I’d let them see everything I can bring to the arena, what kind of tribute would I be?”

“The idiotic kind I suppose.”

“It was rhetorical.”

“You know I hate your sarcasm Abernathy!” Effie, though brilliant in writing speeches and showing tributes off, was not one to deal with Haymitch’s moods.

“Pity, my mentor loves it.” He looked at Katniss with his trademark smirk and sat down at the table as an Avox brought over a scotch and water along with some finger sandwiches.

“Your lamb stew is available if you want it.” Effie gestured to the buffet containing the usual Capitol over indulgence, “Get something and we’ll sit down to talk about our approach. Cinna’s been working on modifications to your outfit along with Haymitch’s. We’ve installed a two way communication cuff and an ear piece that can’t be dislodged.

“You mean we’ll be able to hear each other? I thought they only allowed written communication one way from the mentors.” Haymitch seemed surprised as Effie nodded.

“It’s usually only for the upper districts, a clear advantage, but it appears that the president is pleased with you lately. You’ll be able to see each other too. Also… We’ve gotten word from Plutarch Heavensbee that water is involved heavily this year.”

Katniss walked over to the buffet to grab food when a though struck her, “Did he say fresh or salt water?”  
“We don’t know yet but Cinna is taking everything into account.”

“If it’s salt water, Haymitch you’ll want to look for deeply rooted plants and moss, the roots of trees will desalinate it. You can fashion a water collector from two bottles, I can show you later tonight.” He knew she was looking for a legitimate reason to enter his room and decided to go along with it until Effie piped up.

“Oh what about a spile? You can easily get clean water from that, it’s much easier than making a solar still.” At their looks, she smiled. “What? In the few months I spent in Twelve as a child, Haymitch managed to teach me a few things.”

“You already knew?” Katniss took her items and walked back to the table, at a loss to continue the ruse now that Effie had given the answer.

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t solid advice, it’ll serve your future tributes. However, sweetheart, there are some things that we need to go over, tribute to mentor, that I’d rather not have certain eyes and ears listening in on.”

“Oh, if it’s anything like what we’ve seen on the training room feed, the Capitol is in for a treat this year. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen that style of martial arts in the Panem archives.” Effie sighed, “You’ll get so many sponsors you’ll be guaranteed to win!”

“So it’s been sent to the Capitol already?” Haymitch took a bite out of a finger sandwich and wiped his fingers before picking up a data pad from the seat next to him.”

“Excuse me! That is Capitol property for the official district escort only!” Effie hit his hand swiftly with her fan.”

“Hah reminds me of my teachers back in the one room schoolhouse except they used a ruler. Thanks for the trip down memory lane.” He rubbed his knuckles and handed her the pad.

Effie scrolled through the pad and seemed almost alight on air as she read.“So far Mr. Abernathy, you are one of the projected favorites since our dear girl on fire has been relegated to mentor status and you have been automatically entered.

“Who’s in the next two spots?”

“If Finnick is chosen, it’s him followed by Beetee.”

“Get a message to them, I’d like to sit down and talk. What about the faux games, the mentor college projections?”

“Again, based on you and Katniss, your pair skills have you matched to claim the top spot if you manage to find a non verbal communication.”

“Good, we’re not going to show what we have on camera. Get Snow’s permission to go dark on training for the day before we reach the Capitol. Let them think we haven’t found our sync yet.”

“Going for the devious again… I remember the last time you did that in ’72, it nearly worked for Sadie Blye.” Effie clapped her hands in enthusiasms as she sat across from them. “So, is it going to be the blow darts? That worked very well and got very high ratings for us since Ma…” Effie stopped talking. “It worked very well during your games in ’50.”

“Effie, we have something different in mind.” Katniss spoke up as she watched Haymitch turn to the window.

“Oh… Well… I’m sure it’s going to be splendid.

The co-pilot of the train came through and spoke to Effie “Ma’am, we’ll be approaching Three to refuel, your district tributes aren’t allowed into the district itself, but perhaps I can ask the guards to allow them onto the platform for some fresh air.”

“Surely _Victor_ Abernathy and _Victor_ Katniss can visit.”

“I have orders from the President himself.”

“Very well. I’ll bring you back something.” Effie turned to them with a gesture of apology.

“No outside technology is to be allowed on the train without permission.” A uniformed peace keeper spoke up towards the back of the room.

“Oh for Panem’s sake! Article 234 of the Mentor Tribute Rule Guides, subsection 12 paragraph 3: A mentor in attendance of mentorship college is allowed to further the chances of victory for their tribute by any means necessary except in the case of nuclear or non sanctioned flame weaponry and bombs. You can check the damn rules yourself and the piece of technology! Do you honestly believe I don’t know how to do my own job?” She sounded truly affronted with her hand clasped to the peony necklace at her throat like a woman clutching pearls on the Capitol dramas.

“Of course ma’am.” The guard backed out slowly without complaint and the compartment was devoid of Capitol presence except for the Avox. 

“Effie that was brilliant you beautiful doll you!” Haymitch stood up and stalked over to her, lifting her and spinning her around.

“What? All I did was cite the rules,” she stated as she was brought back down to the floor.

“Yes! but it’s an obscure rule! Hardly anyone memorizes all fifteen volumes woman!” Haymitch clapped his hands together. If everything worked, he would survive to come home to her.

“Well… thank you. I have a knack for remembering the little things.” Effie touched her wig lightly, checking to make sure nothing had been displaced.

“I need you to get a spool of wire 200 feet long. I’m making a donation to a fellow tribute with my mentor’s leave. Also, I need a water proof sunscreen shield. Where there’s water, there’s almost always too much sun, get enough for six.”

“You sound like you’re preparing for an alliance Haymitch,” Effie tilted her head, her finger near her mouth in contemplation, “I’ll just bet my hat you are.”

“Perhaps, I hate to leave you but I have to contact others who could be reaped, just in case they are chosen. Katniss, study manual thirty, you don’t have to work them out, but you’re allowed to have the computer out the scenarios I left marked. It’s all from the mentor guides. Video files are near the end for each situation.”

As the train shuddered to a stop, Effie exited the train from the rear of the car along with the Avox, leaving them a few precious moments alone except for the Capitol watching. 

“Look good for the camera beautiful, we’re going to have a lot to answer for.”

“What…?”

Katniss felt him pull her into his lap, kissing her fiercely before whispering into her ear. 

“Go with everything.”

She relaxed into his arms letting her hands drift over his face and chest restlessly.

“What are you doing?” Katniss moaned lightly kissing his lips.

“Making sure you have a place in their minds. If you can seduce me, you can seduce anyone.” He kissed back taking her lower lip with his for a few moments.

“You said you would keep me off Snow’s radar… If you’re lying… I’ll never forgive you.”

“If he notices you have everyone thinking you are the most beautiful woman alive? He wouldn’t dare.”

“Hay… Well… excuse me. I didn’t know you both were preoccupied.” Effie said walking back into the dining car, “I forgot my purse. And just so you both know… this can’t be kept quiet. I want details! Give me twenty minutes to find what you both asked for.”

“Effie wait,” Katniss looked at Haymitch, “I’ll need a pregnancy test.”

“Wait! Cinna!… He’s in his drawing room! Do not move!”

“Kat?” Haymitch looked up with a wry smile, “You cannot be pregnant.”

“I missed last week.”

“Oh… a Victor wedding… right before the quell and a child! Twelve is going to be remembered for years!” Effie ran off to Cinna’s compartment as they sat there in shock.

“Please tell me this isn’t happening.” Haymitch rested his head on her breast.

“We’re telling them we got married in Twelve.” Katniss relaxed, settling gently into a comfortable position with her legs resting between his.

“Only if I took you.”

“Because I let you, wouldn’t want you to break the law. We eloped with a hand fasting.”

“I have my mother’s and yours.” Haymitch watched the look on her face go from amused to shocked.

“She isn’t really expecting us to get married.” Katniss adjusted herself, pushing playfully at his chest.

“Katniss… I gave you my mother’s wedding and betrothal necklace.”

It wasn’t a game anymore, according to old customs he’d made his intention plain before outright asking. He’d asked her to protect him, that he would protect her in turn, he’d given her his mother’s betrothal gift. He’d shared his bread and house for a night and a day with her. He’d asked her mother for her hand fasting clothes, the one she’d embroidered with thistle, shamrock and red and white roses. Before she’d been chosen for the games she thought red and white roses were beautiful.

“You did this on purpose. The whole thing… You love me.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”  
“When?”

“Since the day you were chosen.”


	5. To Talk of Marriage or Survival?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So our Victors have made it to the Capitol and have started training, but Snow's demand for their love to be put on display is a different matter altogether. Is it the desire for everyone to live that spurs Katniss on? Or could it be that she truly does want him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter, I hope somebody likes where I have the story headed. If you notice I am incorporating more scenes from the books, just in a different manner. I honestly just like exploring how I can change up story. Gotta love fanfiction.

Sure enough that afternoon saw an explosion of media attention. Without revealing anything major, Cinna made a mockup of their proposal piecing together image feeds from her home. It felt invasive, but there it was. Cinna made it appear as though she’d rejected Haymitch the traditional three times, him carrying her from the field to his home and her running back in the early morning hours in only her nightgown.

“Will they believe it?” Effie stood on pincushions over Cinna’s shoulder.

“Honey, I am good, but.. I’m not the best. You have to get Cressida for that. I scrambled the date to read consecutively but we’ll need a bit of luck on our side that they don’t look further into it.”

“Oh it’s like a fairytale!” Effie twirled as she read the news on the Capitol live feed, “You’re all anyone is talking about! My victors in love, you know people are saying they sensed chemistry between you but half of the audience believed you betrayed Peeta.

“I’m not sure how much a fairytale bride capturing is Effie, maybe if my father’d asked…” Katniss covered his mouth before Haymitch said anything he would regret.

“You asked me first. And Effie, if they have a problem... I could mourn Peeta a year and a day, I could morn him the rest of my life if you want, but I will always love him. There will never be another person as kind and sweet as Peeta… But Haymitch… He gave me what I was missing since Peeta was taken in the Games, He gave me the bond of victory.” 

Haymitch knew she was laying it on thick, allowing the cameras placed aboard to send the feed to both Snow and Flickerman. He had to admit that her showmanship had drastically improved since the previous games. Her ability to manipulate was beginning to scare him.

“I need to call the Capitol, don’t worry, I’ve sent Avoxes to get your items and something a little special. Snow said we’re going to do another engagement for the whole of Panem to see, he’s just sent us a message!

She passed the pad over to them and keyed in the authorization code, Snow’s face sprang up before them.

_“Congratulations to the Victors of District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen and Haymitch Abernathy on the announcement of their impending nuptials. On behalf of the Capitol, I insist that the wedding take place here so that everyone may enjoy the beauty that only marriage can bring. I’m having banquets thrown in your honor.”_

“Wait, another message is coming through, this one is secure.” Effie handed them the pad and engaged the privacy shield around the table.

“I am impressed Miss Everdeen, Mr. Abernathy, you really managed to get the media attention but as I said, I insist on a wedding, publicity stunt or not. If you manage to win the games Mr. Abernathy, you will be one of the most famous Victors to ever wear the crown. I’d therefore hate to have to drag you out year after year with your beautiful future wife if this is such a flippant attempt to curry favor with sponsors.”  
The message ended as the pad powered down leaving no trace of the message in its history and Katniss pulling at her gloves.

“Kat, breathe, I’m not letting them get to you. Not now, not ever.” He brushed her hair from her eyes

She didn’t say a word as she stood up and walked out of the dining car to the bar, as she looked over the alcohol, Haymitch quickly followed behind and pulled her away.

“Come with me.”

He pulled her through the cars until they reached his quarters. As soon as the door closed he engaged the privacy sensors.

“Are you really pregnant or was that a little stunt for the cameras sweetheart? because that was _brilliant_!”

Katniss sat down on the bed gesturing for him to join.

“It’s not an act… I haven’t had my period in a week.”

“That…isn’t possible. You’ve had an implant alongside your tracker, or at least I do. It comes standard in all Tribute medical kits. Unless…” He walked over to his weapons chest and looked on anxious as it scanned.

_“Welcome Haymitch Abernathy, Second Quell Victor, year 2025. The odds were ever in your favor."_

“Chest bypass standard selections, bring up medical tray B-2.” 

The tray came to the surface showing an array of surgical tools and a medical scanner as well as medications not readily available outside of the Capitol.

“My mother could run a whole clinic with this. You’ve had all this the whole time and never let us know?”

“It’s not something I’m allowed to give. I’m locked out unless it’s for use in the Arena, for a tribute, a victor, or on Capitol orders. If I try to use it on anything else they rig it to destroy the tray.”

“So you’re telling me you can kill but not heal without Capitol leave? Someone has to give you permission?”

“My mentor has to give permission this time. This is the last time I can access it. Take out the scanner and the fourth object to the right. It’s a new ident chip.”

“Haymitch, you don’t need to do this.”

“I’ve got no choice, run the scanner over your tracker.”

“Haymitch, you aren’t going anywhere.”

“Katniss, my mentor Rummage gave it to me before he went back to Game making, he was killed three years later due to a rather anticlimactic arctic game. Every tribute died of exposure except Cressida Yates. There was no choice, either he transferred it or we’d lose everything. There is more in here than just weaponry. So do this for me, keep it safe. Run the scanner.”

Katniss ran the scanner over her tracker watching it light up faintly as data was sent back and forth.

“It’s just as accurate as a standard blood scan. We should know in a few minutes if… if you’re expecting.” Haymitch tapped nervously on his knees before getting up and pacing around the room. His anxiety was apparent and palpable, his face drawn with fear.

“After that, hold it with the scanner facing the ident chip and slip the chip in the grooved slot on the bottom. I’m transferring it to you to keep things safe. If I die… you need to remember this phrase, ‘Don’t let the bastards get you down.’ And Katniss, whatever you choose… I still support you.”

“Haymitch, this isn’t just about us is it?” Haymitch grabbed her gloved hands holding fast.

“Promise me when you open it, you’ll understand. I can’t say anything else, just promise me.”

The scanner beeped the completion of the data transfer, and as she looked down she saw her entire file open for view, her victor profile was there just as he had said. In bold letters under reproductive state it said Positive pair match  
“Give me your wrist Haymitch,” Katniss took his wrist and scanned, “It says reproductive status Positive pair match. What does it mean?”

“It means he’s trying to breed victors.I should never… Katniss, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything… you were trying to help us.”

“I was selfish. If I had known. I wouldn’t have encouraged anything!” Haymitch threw a glass against the view screen, watching its contents drip. The view screen stood unfazed.

“Hey, hey… look, we can get through this, we will get through this.”

“No Katniss, you don’t understand, history has done this before, all of this. In my memory chest back in the cave, there’s a book on a political group, something that Snow had a fascination with. But that… it isn’t safe to talk about. You just protect yourself and… Just stay alive. Give me the ident chip.” 

Katniss watched him slip the indent chip into the scanner where he transferred her data. After he removed his chip, he slipped hers into the lock.

_‘New Identity Chip inserted, please state transfer authority number for Abernathy, Haymitch Victor 2050’_

“Abernathy, Haymitch December 27th 2034 Authorization Juliet Foxtrot Romeo 3219”

_‘Authorization code accepted, please state new victor identity’_

“Everdeen, Katniss May 8th 2058 Authorization…”

“What do I say?” She looked at the ident lock with confusion as Haymitch wrapped his arms around her.

“It’s your tribute ID.”

“Oh, Everdeen, Katniss May 8th 2058 Authorization Tango Alpha Victor 8426”

_‘Authorization code accepted, Welcome Katniss Everdeen Victor of the 74th Hunger Games, the odds were ever in your favor.’_

“Fuck the odds.”

_‘Command not recognized.’_

Haymitch pulled her closer, “This is really happening, I never thought it could come to this.”

At her puzzled look, he brushed it off, “Nothing, Kat, it’s nothing, just an old man musing about the passage of time. Forget it, forget everything I said in the last five minutes.” He couldn’t involve her in what was to come.

“So, do we tell the others?” Katniss gestured to her stomach with consternation as Haymitch held her, shifting into a reclining position. He weaved their fingers together as he raised her hand to his lips.  
“We’ll tell them the usual way in Panem, we broadcast it for the whole world to hear.”  
=====================================================================

Three days later the Tribute Center was in full swing preparing for the new crop of mentors. Katniss found herself pacing in front of the entrance to the training area on the fourth floor, waiting for Haymitch.  
They’d been due to start training half an hour before but Haymitch had been delayed with old Capitol associates. During that time Effie was harassing her to pick dress designs and lace swatches. 

“Why hello there gorgeous!” Haymitch strolled out from the western corridor with a small package in his hand. 

“You are late, what is it you’ve got there?”

“Open it,” Haymitch appeared hesitant, his hand tapping restlessly on his thigh, “If you don’t like it, I’ll take it back.”

Katniss took the package in hand, opening it up little hesitation as she smiled.  
She pushed the tissue paper to the side and found an oval charm in gold and white on a thin gold chain, the relief of a woman hunting with a bow felt almost alive beneath her gloved fingers.  
“It’s beautiful…”

“Artemis, goddess of the hunt. I saw it and thought of you. It’s called a cameo apparently. They make it out of shells from the ocean in District 4. I figured it would be nice for you to have a… a betrothal necklace of your own, instead of my mother’s.” Haymitch picked the necklace up out of the box and clasped it behind her neck.

“No Haymitch, I’ll wear your mother’s, but this one, this one… You thought of me,” Katniss rested her hand atop his.” As they kissed, Katniss could feel the eyes of the peace keepers. She knew everything was being sent to Snow. 

Her mind reflected back to Snow’s latest call two nights ago, one she’d hid from Haymitch. Snow threatening to kill Haymitch and the rest of her friends and family gave her great pause in how she was going to pursue finding peace. 

Since Rue’s death and her gaff of offering her winnings along with her heartfelt sorrow, the discontent was getting worse in Eleven. Sitting there in her seldom used bedroom and watching the news, she saw the images of protests and uprisings made her shiver as her Capitol line beeped.

_“Good evening Miss Everdeen, I trust you’re well?”_

_“Good Evening President Snow.”_

_“I have a small question Miss Everdeen, during the two weeks before you left for mentor college, my feed picked up something curious before the town square one evening. Can you explain, Miss Everdeen, why Gale Hawthorne is kissing you when you are already betrothed or so you say, to Mr. Abernathy?”_

_“He caught me off guard sir.”_

_“No Miss Everdeen! No! We promised to tell the truth! You see here? How you jumped into his arms? How you cried? It seems strange that you would be so intimate with a friend unless of course… you feel more and if that’s the case… I’m afraid dear Gale may meet an unfortunate end.”_

_“Sir, he’s my best friend, it was a moment of happiness. Please don’t kill Gale.”_

_“You think you can just suddenly convince the Capitol and the other districts that you’re in love with a victor nearly twice your age? How naive do you expect the people to be? You need to aim higher Miss Everdeen, lest you fall short.”_

_“I don’t need to convince everyone, it’s the truth, so what do you mean by aim higher?”_

“ _Convince **me**.” Snow practically hissed as he slammed his hands on the desk, “ **Convince me**! Or, something unfortunate may befall them all and by that Miss Everdeen, I mean… They will die_.”  
===============================================================  
“Kat?” Haymitch brushed his palm against her cheek causing her to gasp and jump up without warning as she was brought back into the present, “Kat, it’s me. You got a little lost there sweetheart.” Katniss nodded, relaxing back onto the bench as she looked at the black marble walls.

“Sorry, it’s the thought of going back in there.”

“Look at me, it’s training… the weapons are dulled right now. We have five days before the term starts.”

“It doesn’t mean the situation has changed, there’s still only one coming out of the arena after everything is said and done.”

“I will come home Kat, I will come home to you. You won’t lose me like you did with Peeta. I promise.”

“I love you.” The words slipped from her mouth without warning and she felt more vulnerable than she’d ever been in that moment.

“I know.”  
=====================================================================  
She insisted on training him with the bow. Though light and easy to work with he found he would always prefer his knives. However, she had made a good point in the session about his mid range field would expand as the arrow could reach farther. 

“I still don’t have the aim right, I keep missing the target.” Katniss nodded, coming to stand behind him to help him adjust.

“That’s all right, hold your bow grip a little lighter than that, let your eyes visualize how many yards are between you and the target first. Think about how far over or under you want to aim. If you’re closer to the target, aim lower, farther, and you aim higher. Then take the arrow and knock in on the mid point of the string, guide it so it’s flush against the top of the bow grip. Once you have your target sighted, pull back, one finger above the arrow and two below, have the string sit about a half inch to an inch in against your cheek. Double check your aim and then let it fly.”

She backed away and stood off to the side as he shot the arrow, watching it embed itself deeply into the chest target. The target turned black, signifying a kill.

Haymitch found himself extremely pleased with her ability to teach. She was simple and straight forward with no complicated or convoluted language.  
“You’ve got a way with words beautiful. Before this I’ve only tried twice and failed miserably. There’s a talent for mentoring there that you can’t deny.”

“You mean I’ve got a way with murder.”

“Darlin’.” he took out a throwing knife from the holster at his lower back and threw it suddenly, causing the arrow to split in half up the shaft, “everyone here has a way with murder or they meet their maker on the first day. You know that.”

“Katniss Everdeen, you have a call on Capitol line 1 secure.” 

“Snow…”

“Hey, come here.” Haymitch didn’t care as he pulled her shirt causing her to fall into his arms, his kiss sure and full of promises, “Meet me in our room.”  
She nodded, walking back out of the training area and keying the elevator to the penthouse. 

As she stepped off the elevator, Effie rushed over. “There are at least two dozen engagement gifts here! Oh and the President is holding,” Effie passed the pad and left.  
“ _Hello again Miss Everdeen, I must say you are doing very well. That was a lovely first confession. I can tell you actually put feeling into it. Now, here is the reason for my call; you and Mr. Abernathy have an interview with Caesar. You will find your clothing has been carefully provided by my stylists_.”

“Thank you sir.”

“ _Make sure all of Panem believes you, make sure I believe you_.”

“Yes sir.”

=====================================================================

Later that evening before dinner, she’d been laying in his room quietly studying more of the manuals as he’d suggested when the door opened with a slam.

“Television, bad enough we have to parade ourselves in the arena and get sponsors…,” he trailed off as he walked over to the bar and poured a whiskey.

“So Effie told you too?

“I knew, I just hate Caesar Flickerman with every fiber of my being! Now we have to go out put ourselves on display! There are more gifts by the way, they’re starting to block the door. You sure you want to do this baby doll? Sex is one thing, sharing a home and food, but a Capitol marriage, true marriage?”

“Haymitch… You are the only one who understands, the only one who ever will.”

====================================================================


	6. Give Me Love, The Human kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days of solitude are over now that Katniss and Haymitch are at the Mentor college, here they not only have to deal with the weight of their impending Capitol wedding, but the pressure of experimentation on Victors; and a certain new tribute has Haymitch looking for answers that may be dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I think this is turning out to be very fun to write, I saw an interesting avenue and I took it. I'm hoping that history buffs will see where I'm going with this.
> 
> Johanna won her games at 13 in my universe, deal with it LOL.
> 
> Oh and Ahuvi means beloved in Hebrew
> 
> Magdalena Finch is the woman who explained training and the arena in the first Hunger Games, she demanded a name and a larger role in my story. She's a Capitol Mentor for District 2.

As they sat there beneath the bright flood lights of the stage of the Caesar Flickerman Hour, Katniss caught herself off guard in the bright red dress that Snow had sent. Thankfully Cinna cut down the Capitol monstrosity from its layers of tule and lace into something more becoming.

“Earth to Miss Everdeen, my she seems lovestruck with you Mr. Abernathy, I was wondering if you were wearing anything special this evening.

“Oh, forgive me… we haven’t had much time to relax with everything going on. You’re wondering if Cinna put something special in my dress right? Well the truth is yes, I’m wearing it. Would you like to see?”

“Do you think it’s safe?” Caesar's blue lips pursed in concern.

“I think so yes,” Cinna nodded as she stood up and began to spin about, the flames that didn’t burn came from the skirt of the dress in reds, oranges and yellows. She spun until she couldn’t see straight, nearly falling as Haymitch caught her in his arms and kissed her.

The audience roared with enthusiasm as she reciprocated. When they pulled apart she felt breathless as he stood up and pulled a box from the pocket of his suite.

“Now I know that you already agreed to marry me back home in Twelve,”  
Haymitch watched as they pulled up the pictures that Cinna had modified, but he wasn’t prepared to see her standing in his room by the window with him holding her from behind, the next of him pulling at her shirt as they kissed hungrily. His mother’s necklace on the dresser… Everything.  
“Wow… you all see more of my love life than me, next time knock! He cleared his throat and attempted to continue, getting down on one knee.

“Anyway, as I said I know you already agreed to marry me back in Twelve but Katniss Elaine Everdeen, it would make me the happiest man alive if you agreed to marry me.”

Katniss nodded trying to keep her emotions under control. Part of her seethed at being so exposed, another part of her expected it. Victors had no rights just like all the others in Panem.

“Of course I’ll marry you.” 

“There we have it folks! A marriage proposal from the Victors of District 12, Haymitch Abernathy the Lion of Lethalness to Katniss Everdeen The Girl on Fire!.

The audience stood on its feet cheering as he held her tight, hissing in her ear, “I’m going to kill him.”

“Oh my this is beautiful folks, but we need to know more! I hear you did something a little illegal to gain the hand of Miss Everdeen.” Caesar leaned forward with bated breath as they sat back down.

“I understand you captured her to be your bride,” The audience gasped in delighted shock as he described a typical bride capture.

“No Caesar, we performed it but he already had my permission. It’s a small tradition, one not really done today because of such negative stereo types. He’d asked three times before I finally agreed.” Katniss held Haymitch’s gaze for a moment before returning back to the interviewer.

“What did he do to win your hand?”

“I got clean, the games take a such a toll that some of us need help getting up again, Katniss was my rock during the tour. We were together arm in arm since Peeta died.”

Katniss interrupted, “I’ll always love Peeta with my whole heart but as he died he told me to be happy. He told me that if something were to happen to him in the games, he would be pleased if I found someone to be happy with. And Haymitch has changed so much in such a small amount of time. When he confessed after we found out I was going to study, I knew. There was just something there that clicked.”

“We have something small from the video interview on the way here, do you mind if we play it?”  
Katniss shook her head, guessing that it would be something from the train. Sure enough not two seconds later she found herself staring at her tired visage.

_“I’ll mourn Peeta a year and a day if you want, maybe the rest of my life. I will always love him. There will never be another person as kind and sweet as Peeta… But Haymitch… He gave me what I was missing since Peeta was taken in the Games, He gave me the bond of victory.”_

“The bond of victory, a true sentiment. When did you know absolutely, Mr. Abernathy, that you loved her?”

“The moment I met her Caesar, from the moment she volunteered really. She was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“And you Miss Everdeen?”

“I can’t give everything away, but he helped me get over the loss of Peeta by being very kind and allowing me to lean on him for advice and experience.

“Beautiful, just beautiful, when did that kindness give way to desire?” Flickerman was pressing her, trying to see if she would slip up.

“I can’t answer that without making my fiancé blush.” She leaned over meeting him in a heavier kiss that made Flickerman pull at his collar as though he were overheating. All of it was unplanned but fluid. Snow had to be convinced.

“Oh, my my, did someone turn up the heat in here? Katniss Everdeen, the 74th Victor and her Fiancé Haymitch Abernathy 50th Victor and the Second Quarter Quell champion! Wish them well on their engagement!

=====================================================================  
On the first morning they entered the Mentorship Hall near the Tribute Center, Katniss could immediately tell this wasn’t going to be a sit down and learn situation. Despite the hall of lecture, Katniss knew it was a ploy to make them feel comfortable. As she sat there, she could see other mentors forming a battle plan against them. As they worked against her, she too worked against them. The ease at which Haymitch blended into this world was nothing shocking but saddening. They would spend their entire lives both chasing and avoiding death.

“Mentors, tributes, former victors teaching the next generation. The bond of the games cements us together.” Haymitch watched Magdalena Finch speak at the podium below the ring of lecture seats. It seemed like so many years before that he was watching her train her first tribute. Her own nephew volunteering out of District 2, his death outlawing the use of nanite trip wire. To be honest it was sickening, there wasn’t even enough left after the wire tore him to pieces for a proper burial.

“Behind this wall, you will see the mock arena, you will be placed in varying scenarios to gauge your effectiveness as a working team. Now, all of you with the exception of District 12, have been put into the college based on your academic scores, your tributes have volunteered to work with you. Two seasoned victors studying with you is a privilege, take advantage of what you learn here. You may experience this in your own games if you are selected. I know for the majority of you, these are your last few years of selectability, but don’t count yourselves out yet.”

Katniss and Haymitch looked at one another with derision causing him to shake his head slightly as he took her hand within his. Cinna’s comfortable gloves blocked contact with her skin, he was still able to rub gently over her wrist with his thumb. The light contact wasn’t enough for her though as she fit their palms together. He could feel her engagement ring as he laced their fingers together. The fact that she was wearing it gave him a sense of security.

Magdalena pressed her data pad causing the wall’s display to change, revealing student Game Makers walking around a holo projector of the arena. 

“The Arena Training Center is currently twelve floors underneath your feet," she pulled up a map and continued, "spanning underground beneath the city, fully immersive, with a variety of instruments to shape you into the mentors of tomorrow. You’ll find that we have all the latest technology to make sure you are kept safe from major trauma or death over the next few weeks, but mentally and physically you will be put through your paces. You will experience the following: knife and/or sword wounds, fire, poisoning, drought, exposure, envenomation, anaphylaxis and other things as tributes. You will be forced to make decisions that will make or break alliances. You may even develop friendships or more and have to essentially stab that person in the back.”

She held up a metallic silver disc between her thumb and forefinger. “These are your bio-monitors, they will be adhered on the surface of your skin. If you get injured at or near a vital point, you will be considered mortally wounded and collected from the arena. If you should damage or otherwise tamper with your bio-monitor, the mentor college will not be responsible should you experience a life threatening injury that results in your death.”

“So we can die?” A girl with electric blue hair raised her hand and stood up.

“If you tamper with your monitor, yes. Do not forget, this arena is real. Even though we can and will remove you if needed, you will experience every scenario that past tributes have been engaged in.”

Haymitch raised his hand and stood up, “Haymitch Abernathy, Victor of the 2nd Quarter Quell, sorry to interrupt Magda. You want to know how to survive? Listen to your mentor, but if they make a dumb ass decision, do not be afraid to rely on your instincts. Don’t fuck with the monitor. You’re lucky it won’t be an active tracker. You fuck with the real thing or attempt to dig it out and you’ll be killed on the spot from a nice dose of neuronin, a drug normally meant to help with nerve signals. Too much and it will shut down your motor neurons. Believe me it isn’t a pretty death but if you want to go faster than bleeding out or dying of poison and exposure, that’s your best bet.”

“Thank you Victor Abernathy.” Magdalena gestured for him to sit but a male of about sixteen stood up.

“Mr. Abernathy, we’ve watched your games, but I have one question.”

“Yes?” Haymitch rubbed his hand over his eyes. 

“Just how did you avoid the poison flowers and fashion a blowtorch?”

“Study your poisons, read your field guide in the training displays. Take copies home to study. You have seven days to familiarize yourself and absorb as much knowledge as you can on past games. If you’re worried about poisons, study my fellow tribute Maysilee’s tactics. As for the blow torch, that’s my method. Find your own.”

“Did you love her?” Haymitch paused as the girl with blue hair stood up again, “Did you love Maysilee Donner?”

“Understand something Blue, the games bring out every basic instinct you have. You have the three F’s as I like to call it. Fight, Fuck, and Flee. If you don’t end up fighting, you end up fucking but ultimately in the end you end up fleeing from either situation. Your alliances will fail, so your attractions to a tribute can either work in your favor or leave you vulnerable. Choose fucking as a last resort to get under another tribute’s skin. Oh, and don’t try that tactic on me, I don’t take kindly to it.”

He sat down again and pulled the glove from Katniss’ hand, leaning over he whispered to her, “I wasn’t expecting them to ask about May.” His hand held hers tightly, tension visible in his shoulders. 

“Thank you for your assistance Victor Abernathy, we value your sacrifice to Panem.” Magda bowed slightly and continued on, “We will now be taking a look at the layout of the Arena for your first round. Please put your attention on page three of the Arena handbook. This is not obviously the current layout of the actual Games Arena, but it is a close approximation for your use.”

Magda continued on speaking for the next hour before they moved into the game maker’s area followed by the mentor monitoring station.

“Welcome to the game floor, here you can see the layout of our mock game arena. We have light to matter conversion emitters placed strategically around the arena, this is how we change obstacles and situations in an instant. Now can anyone tell me the scientific theorem for light to matter conversion?”

Magda waited for everyone to attempt an answer before turning to Haymitch who waited against the rear wall with Katniss.

“Victor Abernathy, surely you remember the Games of ’61.”

“Of course I do, the Breit-Wheeler emitters, that was the year they were introduced. The Breit-Wheeler theorem states that it is possible to take two particles of light known as photons and smash them together to create an electron and a positron.” At their blank looks, he expanded upon the topic.

“An ancient scientist named Albert Einstein taught us E=mc2, Energy is equal to the mass it produces and that the two are interchangeable, they are at different points both energy and mass at the same time. Now that is multiplied by the constant speed of light squared. That’s the Theory of Relativity in a nutshell. What the Breit-Wheeler emitters do is take that theory and flip it. We take mass which is still equal to energy, but instead of multiplying it with the speed of light squared, we divide it, thus slowing the particle down and producing matter by smashing the slowed light particles together.” 

Haymitch could tell they’d never picked up a sanctioned book in their lives beyond the mundane. How could they expect to win with sheer force alone?

“If you can’t understand it, just think of it as light being held in a suspended animation, as long as that binder that holds it in place, it can be considered matter. Do yourselves a favor and visit the tribute library.”

“Thank you Victor.” Magda insisted on giving credence to his title despite his attempts over the years to have her call him by his first name when in the company of others and it aggravated him to no end. He waved her off and turned back to Katniss who was enthralled with looking at the game projection.

“So this is how they control us all,” She murmured raising her hand, “How large is the arena roughly?”

“It spans about two hundred kilometers to the east and west and another two hundred to the north and south for a total of four hundred. Does anyone know why Victor Everdeen just asked a very important question?”

Hands went up all around the room, as Magda chose a short girl with spiked hair who looked suspiciously like Johanna Mason from Haymitch’s point of view. Could Snow have started his breeding experiment with Johanna? She’d have been thirteen at the time. He looked down at Katniss whose hand absentmindedly brushed over her stomach. He needed to teach her to always be aware of her actions.

“If you manage to scout and reach the end of the arena, game makers will turn you around by any force necessary.”

“Correct Tribute Kemper, I see District 7 has been teaching you some things. You’ve been friends with Victor Johanna Mason for some time now correct?”

“I wouldn’t say friends, but she’s looked out for me a lot.”

“Good, it pays to make friends with past winners, Victors can give inside advice that a non-victor mentor cannot. We are going to go inside of the mock arena in this evening’s session after dinner. In the meantime, we’ve invited some of the top game makers and graduates of the college to answer any questions you may have. However, this year’s game is off limits. you’re all dismissed.”

“Come with me.” Haymitch pulled her out of the game making room and into an empty room across the way, “ I don’t think we’re alone here, I think Snow’s done this before.” He pulled her close, making them look intimate to any passersby. “That girl… Kemper. She looks just like Johanna.” Haymitch pulled out his data pad and quickly found Kemper’s picture in the database followed by Johanna’s. “They look virtually identical.”

“Haymitch, even if she is… we can’t do anything to expose it right now. Besides, even if you could tell her, I doubt she’d believe you. Or me for that matter, I don’t know her.”

“He’s experimenting on victors Katniss, against our will.”

================================================================  
As they returned to their room in the Tribute Center after the session, Katniss engaged the privacy and collapsed onto the bed and spoke of the upcoming games unsure of whether or not he wanted to talk of experimentation again and trying to avoid it herself. Haymitch knew he needed her to be concerned only with the present. She had no idea of his plans, and he would keep it that way. Everything had come so far after years of preparation and he had no idea if they would survive as tributes or a peoples in general. Tributes went back over seventy years. They were neither old nor young, but they were embedded in the bedrock of Panem. Without the games, who would they be as a people? Part of him thought of the old parchment in his memory chest. It spoke of equality:

_“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”_

The information felt like a lead weight on his shoulders, as if he carried the world on his person. He could change things, but was it right? Did Johanna know? Was it even his place to tell her? He’d scanned back all the way to the basic medical file all children were required to undergo at the age of eleven. Under his DNA review he saw few genetic markers that suggested illness besides depression and alcoholism, big surprise there. Yet, when he looked at the fight or flight response, he found something unusual, his norepinephrine was low during the fear trials. 

Every child disliked going to the doctor, but the fear test was whispered about in every group until 2062 when the test was changed in favor of a more humane approach. Haymitch thought about his own exposure to being threatened. His response was low because he forced himself to think only about survival. His father’d been threatening before when he was drunk. Ever since that summer his mother left, when the lightning hit their thatched roof. He’d been scared then, but now he’d turned fire into a weapon.

Today, a simple drop of psilocybin and immersive technology was enough to gauge the response. He still remembered the doctor threatening to burn him alive in the office. The torch hot and blistering to his face. Four hours of testing and a heavy sedative later and you were ready for the games. Yet, despite the sedative, he still recalled it clear as day.

Scanning Katniss as she had slept that morning, he found similar results, her fear being buried alive dissipating at age eleven when she and Madge Undersee were playing near a small culm bank that collapsed. She’d dug her way out after Madge ran to get help.

He needed to get his hands on the other victor data, back to when Snow’s tenure as president began, perhaps even before. All Haymitch knew was, something had been changing for years regarding the games.

Coming back to the present he nodded as she continued to speak of past games and wrote down information. He meanwhile did digging of his own. He pulled up the scan data to his pad, searching through his data curve, something clicked.

“What if he’s planning on breeding victors together to have their descendants in the game instead of the lottery? What if he just chooses victors and their descendants?”

Katniss paused from watching Tremaine Lawliet against Annika Jackson from District 2 during the 52nd Hunger games.

“What do you mean? He’d have to hold the games for about seventy years more to get that many descendants and does it mean direct descent or if a victor marries and has a child who never qualifies, do they take a cousin or another family member?”

“I don’t know, this is only an idea. I need to contact the others.” Haymitch walked over to the Capitol Connect line and was about to key Johanna’s number before he thought better. “You’re right, they’ll never believe it. “ Haymitch set the receiver down instead of activating the video feed and backed away.

Katniss thought of something just then that made him want to smack himself.

“What if I were to invite them both to train? She sort of mentors her anyway, it would make sense that they train together back home. If you were to spar and maybe nick them accidentally, you could give them some healing balm and get a sample on some gauze. We could have someone test it!”

“Kat you _Genius_!” Haymitch whooped suddenly picking her up from the bed and kissing her with an intensity that she hadn’t felt since their second time together when he’d spoken of devotion. As he paused, she looked down and could tell that his body language was changing.

They hadn’t been together since before the night they left Twelve, despite all the times he’d tried to get her into his room. But now they were forced to interact with no one but each other in two days except for required functions. Her thoughts drifted slightly despite Haymitch’s hands roaming insistent as he kissed her further. Even if he’d wanted to talk to Johanna, chances are he wouldn’t have been able to. She’d have to go through official channels. 

Haymitch turned with his back to the wall, letting her slide down his body until she aligned her hips with a sudden gasp. His stolen button down rode up to reveal her naked sex.  
Reaching down he freed himself, wasting little time as she whimpered into his neck. Gone was the woman who despised the drunk, gone was the hatred in her eyes.

“What made you want me Kat? When did you know?” 

“The night you stopped me… stopped me from cutting my tracker out. You kept whispering that you loved me, my mother didn’t let you back in the house for at least two weeks.”

Haymitch remembered holding her feverish body through the dose of Neuronin the tracker released as a warning. No one escaped from the Capitol, no one. 

His movements became slower, no longer heady with desire but instead with something that threatened to overwhelm him. His heart felt like a Career had plunged her sword into his chest to grab hold. In twenty six years he hadn’t felt this close to being human. Was this what love was?

“I do love you, have since I practically met you.” 

He felt her hand reach between them, fitting them together as if they’d been designed to, and part of him thinks maybe they were. He felt her move with heightened senses, her shyness long diminished. He knew Snow was probably watching. He looked at the camera with his gaze steady and hard as if to ask ‘Is this what you wanted? Is this enough?’ Snow’s threat to kill Katniss hadn’t gone amiss between the lines of their limited communication. He knew Snow had probably threatened her as well, with the murder of friends and family.

He wanted to love her away from the glare, away from the Games, away from anywhere they would be found. Plutarch’s plan had to work. He needed it to work, there was more at stake than just his family. _His_ family… He never thought he would ever think those words again.

“I will always love you Katniss Everdeen.” Her sighs against his ear were becoming too much to bear as he pushed away from the wall, carrying her to the bed. Experiment or not, she was _his_. If the boy with the bread had lived, she would have been in his arms instead. But wonder bread boy didn’t listen and carry his own weapons.

Wonder bread… That old data disc of his mother’s put some strange things in his mind.

He focused his attentions on her instead of Plutarch Heavensbee, the dearly departed Peeta Mellark, and old history footage. She was what mattered. He allowed himself for a few precious minutes to believe that they were back in the safety of his grotto as he moved. He brought her over and over to the peak without allowing her to crest. Her thighs pressed tightly around his hips.

“Beautiful,” even though her knobby knees dug into him, he could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve her.

“Where are you Haymitch?” She moaned through his thrusts as his hand trailed possessively over her stomach.  
“Right here babydoll, with you. Thinking about taking you back to the waterfall when we get home.”  
“Look at me,” eyes so much lighter, almost mercury in color met his and stayed there even as she bit her lip in orgasm. He moved faster, shifting her knobby knees and thighs to the sides as he finally felt his stomach pull tightly like there was a string tied from there to his voice as he cried out her name in release.

“God, Katniss, Kat… what are you doing to me?” He stared at her gasping, awestruck and terrified.  
“Giving you enough love to survive.”

“Ahuvi, my beloved. Just once before I die, I know what it’s like to be alive.”

====================================================================


	7. Are We Hunters or Prey?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As their wedding approaches, Katniss finally reveals the stress she has been under as Haymitch lets her see his fear of returning to the arena. Meanwhile in the mentor college, Katniss and Kemper possibly forge their first alliance as they get a look at the mock arena. 
> 
> Later that evening, Haymitch and Katniss get into their first serious argument over the mock arena and how things have changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I know this hasn't gotten many kudos yet and maybe it never will, but it is the longest fanfic I've been able to write since 2014 when I started getting sick. #Parkinson'sWarrior Yay me! So I'll keep going and write for my own enjoyment. If someone wants to hop on this fanfic rare!pair train, enjoy because I think this may end up being like 20 or so chapters. 
> 
> We're getting closer to the 3rd Quarter Quell believe it or not. It will happen yes it will!

As they sat there during dinner on the penthouse dining room level, Effie could not stop talking about the notoriety her victors were getting with their impending marriage and it was starting to grate on his nerves.

“All the Capitol is enthralled with your proposal! You’ll be the talk of the town, the toast in every District! Oh and I have news for you, President Snow has given you the exclusive right to use the old church in the Mission, I believe they called it ‘Our Lady of the Rosary’! You’re to be married in three days! You’ll be the first mentor and victor couple since Beetee and Wiress!” Effie was dressed in a tight blue dress and feathered grey shrug, and positively delighted as she took a piece of orange roughy and lemon couscous.

“Wait, wait why so soon… We haven’t even gotten time to breathe!” Haymitch paused from stabbing at the mushrooms on his plate, the roast lamb and rosemary potatoes on a bed of greens virtually ignored for the moment.

“Oh dear Haymitch, the President just wants you to enjoy married life for a bit before…”

“Before I head off to die? Well that just put a spring in our step didn’t it doll?”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way… You can be so cruel.”

“Haymitch,” Katniss’ voice took on a sharp edge, “Please stop. Effie didn’t deserve that.”

“I… Damn it. I’m sorry. Look, I’m going to get some training in before we head into the mock arena.” He pushed away from the table and stalked off to the elevator.

“You have a session this late? But… Katniss, you need to rest, we have dress shopping to do!” Effie tiptoed on her rather lengthy heels and patted her hand in concern “And we won’t be allowed to stay here past seven tonight, college orders.”

“Wait, Haymitch… Effie, just get me up tomorrow to do it.”

“You also have an engagement banquet at the Presidential mansion in the evening.”

“Fine, fine.” Katniss wiped her mouth and followed after Haymitch who was sitting by the elevators with his head down, shoulders hunched in as he struggled not to scream.

“Hey…” Katniss reached down to touch his shoulder but that started him hyperventilating.

“What do you need?” 

“I need to live, I fucking need to live! I’m forty one this year and I’ve never felt a moments peace and they want to throw me back! But first… let’s make me fall in love with my own God damned tribute! Let’s give me a fucking wedding and then they’ll tear it all away! That should boost the fucking ratings you sadistic bastard!” Haymitch flipped off the camera before slamming his fist on the marble floor.

“Shh,” Katniss slid to the floor drawing him to her as he yelled “I don’t want to fucking die! What’s the point in following the rules if the system breaks them anyway?”

“Let’s go to the roof. We have thirty minutes before we need to be at the mock arena.”

“What good is that going to do?”

“It’ll allow you to scream your head off without the Capitol watching.”

She pulled his head up as she knelt, meeting his lips as he almost sobbed. She kissed him until he reciprocated, his hands going to her braid and entangling themselves. When he pulled back, he was guarded.

“Don’t forget me, promise me you won’t forget.”

“I’m not going to forget you because you are not going to die.”

Haymitch kissed her again, standing slowly as he pressed the call button.

“Sweetheart if I live, it’s because I’ll have trained you well.” He straightened himself out as they stepped into the elevator and headed up to the rooftop.

As they came into the night air, the warm wind gusted through Katniss’ hair as Haymitch reached to undo her braid.

“When you stood there in the Arena with those berries… I thought you were going to die, the only person in Twelve like me. And then there’s the mentor college. Snow called about four days in from the victory tour. He said he had an alternative to putting you in your place. That alternative was this. I didn’t deliberately offer you up for Capitol denizens to fuck. I had no choice but to recommend you for the sponsorship. I made so many deals to get you here, to keep your family alive,” he gripped the railing tightly, watching his hands go white with effort.

“Don’t you understand Katniss? When you’re on this train, you ride it for life. Every year they’ll trot out the story of our romance and broadcast the details of our private life, they’ll force you to expose our son or daughter and cheer on the day they turn twelve. You are a mentor now.”

“Do you regret being with me?” Katniss forced him to look at her in the haze of the rooftop lights. 

“Never, but I need you to be ready, I need you to be…smarter.”

“Can it ever go back?”

“The yellow brick road had to end sometime sweetheart but you got a look at the man behind the curtain before he was ready. He views you as a threat.”  
Katniss had no idea where the metaphor came from but it made her angry and tired.

“I never meant to be.”

“Honey, you beat him at his own game same as me. Upstaging the man automatically got you put high on the shit list. Then… this.” Haymitch gestured between them.

“Did he do it? Has he done this with other victors? I know I’ve probably asked this already. But, is everything a lie?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like it.”

Katniss let out a small cry that grew louder by the moment until it became a roar, “I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S REAL ANYMORE!”

She’d offered the roof as a sanctuary for his demons, but apparently needed to exorcise hers more.

“Let it out.”

“I HATE THIS! I HATE THIS, I HATE THIS!”

“Come here,” he tried to wrap her in his arms but she pushed him away.

“I look in the mirror and all I see is a murderer, I try to see myself but everything is full of terror. I played too well in the games Haymitch, I started a fire I can’t put out. They want me to be this Capitol symbol, their darling and I can’t even wash the blood off my hands. I can’t get rid of these feelings! Now I have to wake up and try and keep it together? There’s no surrender or escape Haymitch. So tell me are we the hunters or are we the prey? Because I just don’t know anymore.”

“It’s a game of survival in and out of the arena and we need to play the board whether we want to or not. Katniss, I made a deal with God, the devil and anyone who would listen to swap places, so if you want to rail against someone, I’m your only choice. I’ve lived this for twenty five years, so come on darlin’ let’s exchange the experience!” He grabbed her shoulders forcing her to look at him. “Twenty five years alone. Twenty five fucking long years with no one to understand. So if you think you’re barely hanging on now and can’t keep going, you need to write me off and prepare for some very hard knocks.”

“I feel so lost…”

“Then be lost, because the only one who can find a path out of any of this is you, just be glad you aren’t dead. We’re going to be late for the mock arena.”

She watched him leave for the elevator again and couldn’t tell if he was more angry than before. There were reasons she didn’t talk about her feelings. ‘Keep on marching soldier, wipe the dust off’ her father used to say those words when she fell or failed at something. 

“No one wants your self pity, keep on marching on.”  
=======================================================

When he saw Katniss enter the mock arena twenty minutes later, her demeanor had changed drastically, the self pity and fear were gone, replaced with a face of determination.

Magdalena didn’t say a word as Katniss took her place at the entry doors next to him, but her glare toward Haymitch said that she didn’t approve of their tardiness.

“This is the mock arena, I hope you managed to look over some of the scenarios. Out of understanding for our Victors who have agreed so graciously to study with us, we will not be using the wooded wilds from the 74th or the poison wood from the 50th,” At the complaints of the others Magda held up her hand in silence. The only one not to complain was Kemper.

“I would do the same if it were you in their places. We do not need to cause a victor pain, they have made their sacrifice. They don’t need to relive it. There are plenty of other scenarios to review.”

As the doors opened Magda turned to them and walked backwards into the arena with her arms spread wide, “Welcome to the future of the Hunger Games. Now, you may ask what is so different, and for that I give you Plutarch Heavensbee Head Game Maker and your junior Game Makers.

Katniss didn’t get the chance to hear the man speak as she and Haymitch were in the rear of the group but as they entered a ruined city, she shivered at the ring of windows that seemed to span forever above the floor. At each one a technician aimed a Breit-Wheeler emitter or analyzed floor conditions and sent data back to the Game Board. So cold and clinical, like they were rats in a cage. Was that all that a human life was worth? Their worth measured in a cage and a never ending maze?

It became worse as the game suddenly came to life with Magda assuring that the safeties were on for the time being.

At first the scenario turned at normal speed with video relaying the unseen areas of the mock arena, allowing the training mentors and tributes to get a sense of the land and the created characters involved but it was gradually sped up allowing for a time lapse of seven days in which the phantom tributes were attacked by acid rain, nuclear fall out and accelerated plant and water table degradation. But it compared little to the mutated wildlife and domestic animals tracking the tributes and cornering the last two tributes in the tallest building where a poisoned feast rested. She vaguely heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Peeta calling out of the male tribute, “I won’t let you kill yourself.” However instead of a sweet and noble sacrifice, the male tribute drew his sword and cut the female up the middle as she stood shocked at the betrayal.

At the boom of the cannon, Magda spoke, “This was the 61st Hunger Games with District One’s favored son Augustus Braun. Tomorrow you will have the opportunity to live a short scenario within this game to get your bearings. This next week will feature many such games and the following week you will be placed into the arena as a training exercise with a game exclusively created for you by our Junior Game Makers.”

Plutarch stepped forward to take questions, handling sudden bombardment with the ease of a seasoned politician. Yet, Katniss had no desire to voice questions. She knew she needed to study Braun’s game closely. 

As she turned to walk away Kemper intercepted her, “Victor Braun favored heavy broad swords and strength over brains, tomorrow’s practice run wants to divide the brawn from the brains. I suggest we team up. I’m trained in climbing and free running because of our work in lumber but I’ve got a knack for poisons and chemistry.” The girl spoke in a rush but piqued Katniss' interest, just as she'd imagined she would.

“What else can you offer?” Katniss was cool in her approach, neither eager nor disinterested. 

“Antidotes in exchange for food for me if they pull this in the exclusive game.”

“And if the scenario doesn’t pan out?”

“I teach your tribute how to kill with chemicals that we can easily get, Sodium Azide, Methanol, you name it and we’ll have an advantage.”

“Kemper… this is a mock game, they won’t let those in.”

“Jeris, my name’s Jeris.”

“Jeris, I’ll talk to Haymitch and see what he thinks but so far, I’m intrigued.”  
==============================================================  
“You have your first alliance.” 

Haymitch didn’t answer as she walked up and into the penthouse dining room but rather grabbed a bottle of vodka and club soda along with a lemon as he signed one handed for the Avox to leave the room. 

_‘I need to have a talk with my wife, please get the hell out.’_

“Haymitch.” She watched him mix the ingredients in a tall glass and take a long drink.

“Kemper, good. I saw you talking when you left, nice job sweetheart.” Sarcasm. His bastard persona sat firmly in play, the kind man she cared about was shut away. 

“You want to go back to this? Do you want us to lose?”

“I don’t lose.” She watched his eye narrow in rage.

“Then we need to focus on this!”

“It doesn’t FUCKING MATTER! THIS IS CHILD’S PLAY! Safeties! Bio monitors, non lethal tactics. When I was in mentor college they didn’t give you the benefit of the doubt, they didn’t let you cut your teeth on God damn children’s games! They threw you to the wolves and if your tribute died they considered you a shitty mentor. This…This isn’t it.”

“So you aren’t even going to try? God, why are we doing any of this then? I should just go home and prepare for the games!”

“No, you aren’t going into the games! We are going to win this, I’m just angry.”

“Maybe they changed it because Career parents wanted their children in the actual games, it isn’t a surprise.”

“Katniss Everdeen, you always had such a keen eye for observation.”

“Tell me what the hell this is really about Abernathy!” Katniss realized that the penthouse was devoid of Effie, Cinna, Flavius, and the others; eerily quiet as their voices echoed back off the marble.

“I trained Cassia there! She lived! She lived damn it! My first victor was a good candidate for the actual games and then she died three days in from a fucking infection and a mercy killing. And she had sponsors!”

“Was that when you stopped giving a damn?” Katniss hissed walking away. Haymitch slammed the glass down on the table sucking in a sharp breath as it cracked and shattered in his palm. As he pulled his hand away a large gash appeared. He hastily took a napkin and wrapped his palm as he invaded her space.

“I gave a damn about every tribute I ever had, I pulled out every stop, I pushed everyone to take them on and no one budged after her until you came along. It was easier to lie to myself, to tell them all to prepare for their deaths rather than give them false hope. Don’t you dare tell me when I stopped giving a damn!”

He felt like throwing things again, or pinning her down and fucking their anger out but he knew that would frustrate her more than him being angry. Katniss was direct and preferred directness.

“Tell me what you want from me.” Katniss spread her hands, asking for forgiveness and letting him know that she understood in a limited manner.

“Too many things that you shouldn’t have given me but if I’m honest, I want to just shut my mind off from these thoughts and you can’t do that so I’m gonna go fix my hand and drink until I’m too fucked up to think.”

Katniss stood for a moment weighing the options to punch him or give in to the obvious solution of putting him and his over active thoughts into dealing with her.

“Haymitch,” a part of her felt guilty for tugging at his heart strings, “ I need you.”

He stood gripping at the white cloth for a moment, clutching his injured hand in anger wishing that he could brush the flowers off of the tabletop and have her.

“I’m not a toy Everdeen.”

“Never said you were, but you’re the one who sees me.”

“I may see you, but do you see me, wife?” His voice softened on the word wife, it felt foreign but necessary to get his point across. They were a team until he was dead. He didn’t want this to end.

Katniss had long since stopped looking at his outward appearance and started looking at the man within. But his use of the term wife reminded her of her father, respectful and loving. _‘Always look beneath the surface katydid. Always, a man never shows his true colors if someone isn’t there to see him grow strong like a diamond. A wife gives love and sees her husband’s strength, and he sees her shine in return. That’s why she is more precious than rubies. Behind every good man is an even better woman.’_

“I’m trying… and you called me wife, we’re not even fully married yet.”

“I know you, I’ve given you everything… but if you want to leave. I’ll let you go.”

Katniss paused, even if their sexual relationship came to an end behind the scenes, even if their wedding was a sham she’d still have to help him. Victor or not, sexual relationship or not, he was her family.

“I don’t want you to let me go. Ani ohev otcha”

“Where did you learn that?” Haymitch was awestruck as he rounded the table. Coming to a stop in front of her he saw her hands trembling.

“You say it in your sleep a lot.”

“It means I love you.”

Katniss stood there taking the measure of him as he moved forward, removing his cufflinks and tie. The buttons of his shirt opened revealing the smooth white area of his collar bone followed by the mishmash of scar tissue near the center of his chest, the ink vine scar on his ribs and barbed wire traces above the deepest wound on his stomach.

“If you really need me Kat, then come here and be with me.” He didn’t need to tell her to take her gloves off.

===================================================================  
As they lay there on the floor of the living room kissing and touching each other he came to a realization; feeling himself enter her was different than before, his pace was heavy and unforgiving, full of something lacking back home during the first time they made love. Demand and determination replaced softness. His body took to hers with a force that was unceasing and insistent. Passionate and yet reverent as he drew the soft cries from her mouth. The floor hard and unforgiving changed to luxurious fur as he fought her for dominance, cursing as she lifted off of his cock and replaced it with her mouth. The feeling of her tongue made him groan in frustration, his hand pulling in her hair made her cry out around him in a hum. He pulled out causing her to gasp at the loss as he slid within her once more. It made him buck harder as she dragged her nails down his hips and flanks, glad for once that she did archery. The dulled nails gave the right amount of pain without drawing blood. He watched her body tighten as he changed angles, suddenly making her eyes flash open in shock at the overwhelming feeling in hitting the same spot again and again.

“I thought you’d like that.”

Her thighs gripped him with her knobby knees pushed up by his hands, she cried out moving herself in a futile effort against him as if to gain that sensation again.

“Greedy, always so bossy…Kat.”

He wasn’t prepared to have these feelings again, for years he’d thought them purged by the games and the bottom of a bottle. Yet here and now he had it in the palm of his hand only to soon lose it in less than sixty days.  
As he looked down, he saw tears dripping from the corner of her eyes and slowed his pace only to have her shake her head no. Her arms reached up to him and he knew it wasn’t about the sex anymore.

“I want to remember you…” She whimpered as he gathered her to him.

There were no words that he could say to her raw and aching self that would soothe her, because he too had similar wounds and no one besides victors to share his life with. When he died, she would be in the same situation.

“I want to keep you.” Her words were barely uttered but he took them in as they fell apart together.

His orgasm rolled slowly up his spine, not blinding this time but warm like the sun in the meadow. His mouth opened slightly as she looked into his eyes and he felt a few small broken bits of himself start to knit back together again.  
===================================================================

“It’s nearly one in the morning, where are Cinna and the others?”

Haymitch sat with her back at the dining table as she nursed a cup of hot chocolate, looking at her hair mussed and the yellow tank top wrinkled. Snow couldn’t deny their attraction now, not with possible video footage of them being together multiple times.

“Cinna and the others won’t be back for a while, not while we’re in training.”

“So that part about isolation was true?”

“Part of their little social experiment remember? Get along or go a little mad.” A phrase came to Haymitch’s mind about a girl lost in a wondrous world with disappearing cats, ‘We’re all a little mad here.’ His mother’s forbidden books were unusual but applicable at times.

“Yeah, two months of it sweetheart. So we get to play house and try to survive mentally.” He felt more than a little mad lately.

He looked around to see the Avox standing once more in the corner, a new woman with bright red hair; who yawned behind her face covering. He spoke and signed for her to bring them something small to eat and to go to bed for the evening but the woman shook her head.

“You can’t leave unless we leave?”  
The Avox shook her head again in affirmation and turned to go into the kitchen with no other response.

“Kat, they’re the eyes and ears of the Capitol, they can be your worst enemy or your best friend,” he watched Katniss’ alight with knowledge as she leaned forward in her chair.  
“Haymitch… Effie said something on the way here about non verbal communication. How many people know Avox sign?”

“Besides other Avox and the staff? Probably not many, it’s different from Panem standard.”  
“Are there any other signs you know that can we can incorporate?”  
“Most military signals are out, the careers all know them and would give us away in a heartbeat.

“What about your mother’s language?”  
“Hebrew would take years, I couldn’t teach you enough in one week, besides I’m thirty two years out of practice.”

“No, I mean hand signals or sign, we could use a mixture.” Katniss knew they were on to something.  
“It could work, there is a hand sign for each letter and multiple signs that could be used, it’s quicker to teach you those. Better than Avox too… It isn’t usually seen anymore.”

“Why?”

“Lost language, if you don’t have enough people, your language starts to fade. My grandfather used to sign, he was deafer than a doornail. The signs are probably the only major thing I remember besides a few prayers.”

“They all left in the diaspora didn’t they?” Katniss remembered learning about the religious diaspora in school, where hundreds of thousands departed Panem before the walls went up over religious intolerance.

“The world outside Panem has been cut off since before I was a child, before Snow. And, I wasn’t very good at learning beyond science. History isn’t my best subject darlin’.”

When the Avox returned with their food, Katniss and Haymitch ate in companionable silence before walking up the stairs toward their room and engaging the privacy setting.

“Look, about earlier… I shouldn’t have manipulated you into making love to me in the open like that. It wasn’t right. I’ve been fucked up in the head lately.” Haymitch walked behind her as she changed into a nightgown and kissed her shoulder lightly.

“You aren’t the only one, I haven’t been me lately either not since…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, that would make it real.

Haymitch said the words for her, “Not since the baby? You don’t have to do this, I already said I would support you in whatever choice you make.

“Snow would find out either way, hell he probably already knows. Haymitch, if he does know…”

“It’ll give us an advantage whether he knows or not.” As he drew back the blue covers to their shared bed, a small card fluttered to the floor. Picking it up he turned it over to see Finnick’s familiar flash of handwriting.

_‘Meet me in the Victor Lounge at three tomorrow, already got permission from Snow.’_

“What’s that?”

“Finnick wants to meet tomorrow.”

“We have the arena session, we can’t miss.”

“Sorry love, orders from Snow.”


	8. Dressed to Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features the wedding dress shopping scene we alll wish we had in the books and the movies, complete with models, lights and the Capitol News Daily crew with Cressida Yates, yes that Cressida. Meanwhile Haymitch meets with Finnick at the Victor's Lounge and almost gets more than he bargained for. Will anyone figure out their code?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Simonia Limoncello is modeled after Lupita Nyong'o in her gold and purple Versace dress from the Black Panther premiere on Jan 29th. No insult is meant , but all hail that Capitol fashion baby!
> 
> See it here: https://www.harpersbazaar.com/celebrity/red-carpet-dresses/g7882/lupita-nyongos-best-looks/?slide=25
> 
> The Capitol dress that Snow loves by Pei Guo from District Three is modeled on this 'lovely' number, you'll see why Katniss doesn't choose it.
> 
> https://www.veaul.com/luxury-gorgeous-champagne-wedding-dresses-2017-red-zipper-up-appliques-backless-embroidered-flower-pearl-rhinestone-handmade-cathedral-train-organza-square-neckline-sleeveless-wedding.html?gclid=CjwKCAjw_-D3BRBIEiwAjVMy7Mpdav8gJSoTsOZTK1KU5IvlZm7NvM33okew89wxEX2i2bLkGvz62RoC6lMQAvD_BwE
> 
> The Cassius Oleg dress Katniss asks to see first is based on this little number
> 
> https://www.tbdress.com/product/Off-The-Shoulder-Long-Sleeves-Ball-Gown-Floor-Length-Hall-Wedding-Dress-2019-13756558.html
> 
> The green dress Katniss says is from Madge, complete with the doctored Twelve wedding party, is based on this beautiful evening gown.
> 
> https://www.tbdress.com/product/One-Shoulder-Mermaid-Split-Front-Pleats-Court-Train-Evening-Dress-12918063.html
> 
> Her final wedding dress selection for the reception is this one by the actual designer (And one of my favorites) Oleg Cassini. This was as close as I could get to the real thing when I pictured it in my mind. remove the sheer nude mesh and you've got the dress I want!!
> 
> https://www.davidsbridal.com/Product_shimmer-lace-long-sleeve-applique-wedding-dress-cwg853
> 
> Now Haymitch's suit.... I hope you all picked up on that film reference and actual shop!!!
> 
> https://bamfstyle.com/2017/09/20/kingsman1-harry-charcoalstripe/
> 
> A WORD OF CAUTION: Should you like these dresses and want to buy them... buy with a touch of understanding. Most of the websites with the exception of David's Bridal, are Asian shops. I do want to let you know that they do steal photos and sell knock-off designs. I buy with a grain of salt, knowing that these may not fit or look like their pictures represent. If you do order, order custom, or order a size or two bigger than you are in US or whatever country you live in's size standards. Always order and pay with a site like Paypal! Never give your card information to these sites, and you'll also have buyer protections. I've had issues in the past and have never been let down by Paypal.
> 
> Here is Commis, the restaurant I refer to where Katniss and the gang eat lunch, sadly I could only use their takeaway menu due to Covid but it still looks good!
> 
> https://commisrestaurant.com/
> 
> And finally here is the wine I refer to, I had a small glass of a similar vintage by the same vineyard... WOW... the taste of summer no lie, worth it at nearly $80 something a glass. If you EVER get the chance, have it.
> 
> https://www.millesima-usa.com/batard-montrachet.html

Effie tapped at Haymitch’s door at seven in the morning, earning a well deserved “Fuck off.” from him but since she was used to his coarse attitude she brushed it off.

“Katniss darling? We have dress try on at nine until noon with Cinna so you can choose and he can make last minute alterations. From noon until one you have lunch. From there you have a training session with Haymitch until three pm and the mock arena at four until six. You both can have a short rest at seven pm until eight but the engagement banquet starts at nine pm and lasts until about two am. Busy day now! Up, up,up!”

“Effie, if you don’t leave now, I’ll make sure to throw every wig you have into traffic and ruin your makeup kits. I swear to the coming savior and all that’s holy!”

“Well fine, see if we bring you back any gifts today!”

“The gift I need right now is the gift of some God damn sleep!”

“Effie?” Katniss shifted over Haymitch’s naked body, brushing her fingers along his Victor tattoo.

“Yes dear?” She could hear Effie leaning against the door to hear and Katniss remembered the level one privacy screen.

“Computer? Remove privacy setting.” The computer beeped an acknowledgement and suddenly she could hear the noise of the Capitol pouring through the open windows.

“Ahh much better, now I can hear you Katniss!”

“I need you to get in touch with Johanna Mason, we need permission to train with her.”

“Oh I’m sorry dear but Johanna isn’t in the Capitol just yet but I can send a letter of introduction to the Victors for you.”

“Sleep is apparently a foreign concept to you both isn’t it?” Haymitch groaned into the pillow.

“Thank you,” Katniss stretched as she got out of the bed and put on a robe, looking into the mirror as the Capitol Daily Bulletin ran upper and lower third newsflashes around the border. 

“We need to work on the hand signs at some point without others being able to listen in, I suggest we study here instead of training, we’ll ask Kemper to work with us tomorrow.” Haymitch rolled over facing the viewing monitor as he grabbed the remote. He opened up the daily game feeds, and shifted the screen to add the latest gallup poles.

He found their names were still at the top for mentor and tribute in the mock games but was concerned to see that Finnick’s name had surpassed him in the actual games by more than ten percent in three out of four projections. He needed to cement the alliance.

“Kat, I need you to have Effie do something for me while you’re out. We need to get tokens, two for now. She’ll know where to go.”

“Aren’t they supposed to be from our home district?”

“He’s a metalsmith from Twelve, it counts.”

“Whatever you say, I’d better see if Cinna’s here, knowing him we’ll have to choose a damned outfit to walk down the street.”

“I thought you liked his outfits darlin’”

“I do, but it’s dressing up for others I hate, like you said, it’s bad enough in the games. But parading around like a drama star? No thanks.”  
“Better get used to it. We’ve got our impending diva wedding and other things,” he subtly shifted his gaze to her stomach, “Point is we’re gonna’ be doing it a long time.”

“I know… better make it look good.” Katniss walked over and kissed him lightly before starting to walk out the door, when Haymitch spoke up. “Don’t do anything to make Snow put his attention on you. Act like the blushing bride they want, even if it makes you sick.”

“I’m going to have the worst day today.”

“Not as bad as me.” he breathed as the door shut behind her.”  
========================================================================================

The streets of the Capitol were usually packed with early morning commuters but as Katniss, Effie and Cinna’s team walked down District Way, the streets were suspiciously empty but for obviously paid and trained extras.

“There are plenty of deisgners that have sent over wedding dresses to our favorite boutique! The President has asked that we stop in and thank them personally for the media. Advertisement will help not only them but you as well! A great many said they would be sponsoring Haymitch and yourself in the games this year. Now we do have quite a number of dresses to try on and only a little time what with the wedding being 2 days away and all; but, beggars can’t be choosers! Caesar has invited you to show the dress off tomorrow night before the big day.”

“Do I get to at least choose my dress?” Katniss smiled brightly into the Capitol cameras walking ahead of them as she swished the flowing skirts of her white modified A-line. The dress even had that tight black and silver off the shoulder neckline that was all the rage according to Cinna. The shoulders extended into ridiculous points, a perfect Capitol morning fashion. It even had a white and black fascinator complete with feathers. She fucking despised it.

“Of course darling! It is your big day after all!”  
Katniss breathed in what looked like anticipation but disguised the urge to settle her rage. False smiles could only get so far until the mask slipped off. 

As they entered the shop, the owner greeted them with champagne and caviar.  
Effie slipped a pill into her hand and whispered, “Take it, everyone will be having you drink today. We don’t want you getting inebriated or _do damage to the baby_."

Katniss had no idea that Capitol med was so advanced.

“Good morning Victor A..Victor Everdeen! Oops almost called you by your future name! I’m Simonia Limoncello, owner of Limoncello Boutique, the premiere Capitol wedding dress purveyor. Thank you so much for coming to visit and try on our dresses.” 

Simonia was tall, cocoa dark and in a Capitol fashion that was stunningly purple. The audacity of rich excess came complete with shoulders and breastbone covered in precious stones. What looked like amethyst, citrine, and pearls over hammered gold gathered over the dress as though it were poured on. Her hair was styled in a tall wrapped braid inset with a gold hammered circlet. She was stunning in her personality, almost as blinding as the dress itself.

“Pleasure to meet you, thank you for having me.” Katniss could feel the sweet syrup of her voice dripping with hidden sarcasm that the woman completely overlooked. Turning her head and swallowing the pill, she took a sip of champagne and was led over to the couch.

“Now we have quite a sample of designers based on the lace swatches and cut design elements you had sent out and we think you’ll be very pleased with what we’ve chosen. I hope you don’t mind but we’ve had our models prepared to walk in order to save you time.” If you like something, simply point to the model and she’ll step off to the side for you.”

“Thank you for helping us with Victor Everdeen’s special day, we couldn’t have done all of this so fast without President Snow’s help!” Effie tutted around helping Katniss arrange the ridiculous skirt to lay just right for the camera before cueing her to take a sip of champagne for the viewers.

“Of course, in fact, the President… did wish to see a few favorite designs. They’re all the rage this fashion season. If you wouldn’t mind? He wants to see you in them, we had to specifically call in the favors a few days ago.”

“Wait… Is this being streamed to the President or live across Panem?”

“Oh… I believe everyone at home is watching Miss Everdeen, is there anything you want to say?” The female camera helm operator spoke up. “Cressida Yates here with Capitol News Daily. Katniss turned slightly to look directly on, her voice hitching.

“Mom, Prim… If you guys are watching? I miss you! I… Well I wish you could be here.”

“Miss Everdeen, did you wear anything special for your wedding to Victor Abernathy back home in Twelve?”

Katniss paused slightly before recalling how their mother’s wedding dress had been lost in a land slide at her grandmother’s home when she was nine, that same summer her father was taken. It was the truth at least.

“I actually just wore a green gown a friend lent me. One of our traditions is to wear something a dear friend gifts for the day. Something she loves. It’s meant to show your friends will be there to help your marriage grow.”

“And who was that friend? I believe we have some pictures sent in from the ceremony back home as well. 

_‘Yeah, fake as fuck pictures that will probably get found out. Cinna what were you thinking? We could have just said we eloped! Damn it Peeta, you would have been so much better at this!’_ Her smile slightly faltered as she heard the cameras on the other assistant’s head zoom in with an almost imperceptible whir. _'Keep it together Katniss.'_

“Madge, Madge Undersee, hi Madge!” Katniss waved to the camera feeling horrid that she had to use the name of the only other girl she associated with outside of Hazelle, Greasy Sae, and Prim.

“We have the first lineup of gowns ready for you.” Simonia gestured to the raised walk in front of them. 

“Oh, wait… I don’t want Haymitch to see the gown yet. So can we make that a surprise?”

“Of course, you are the bride.” Simonia smiled and took a cup of tea from her assistant, drinking it with a shaking hand. Katniss knew something was amiss.

“I’d also like to honor two designers, one choice for our President… and one for me. Since the President went through all this trouble.”  
When in doubt, always placate the easily bruised ego, Snow seemed especially easy to bruise lately. The last thing she needed was to piss him off, for her family’s sake.

“Oh! Well that is perfect! One for the main ceremony and another for the reception? I’m sure the President would agree that it’s a lovely thing to do.” Simonia waved the first model through.

“Here we have a lovely off the shoulder lace sleeve with a boat neck neckline in a modified A-line cut. It comes in two shade, buff ivory and white. Please note the floral accents with raised 3D stitching. Buff ivory would look elegant with your skin tone and a wonderful up do. We also have a great number of veils. The president has sent over your Victor’s circlet and Victor Abernathy’s, he feels that it would compliment your dress.”

 _‘While subtly saying I’m a murderer and reminding me that he could easily rescind his offer to make me a mentor. Also that he could put me back in, as well as the fact that even if he doesn’t; Haymitch needs to secure a Victory for Prim. Fucking grand.’_ Katniss nodded trying to keep her stomach at bay.

“Now who is this dress by?” She longed for a damn cup of tea herself, but everyone expected a bride to ‘enjoy’ herself when choosing a dress, as if choosing a dress before the fucking regime could be fun.

“Cassius Oleg, one of our most popular designers since spring! Simonia nodded enthusiastically

“Do you mind? I think I may like to try it on.”

“Of course, step to the side please Cassandra.”

“Katniss, may I call you Katniss?” Cressida spoke up as she zoomed in, “Would you like to take a closer look at the design?”  
Effie interrupted looking surreptitiously at the clock.  
“ Actually, we really should see more dresses, we’ll take a closer look when Victor Everdeen tries it on.” Effie primped her wig slightly before taking Katniss’s hand in hers for a moment as if to assure her that everything would be ok if she followed the script.

“Thanks Effie, Oh, and I’ll need something special today for you since you are my maid of honor.”

“Really?” Effie sniffed, “But… the other female Victors are your bridesmaids. They’re coming in tomorrow morning, we only have four dresses.”  
Cinna spoke up from the back as he looked over the design catalogue, “Don’t worry girl, I’ve got you.” 

“ Our next dress design is by Vera Langley. As you’ll notice, this design is designed to reflect the simple nature of the outer districts, while keeping with the sumptuous lace designs we here in the Capitol just adore. The hand tooling goes all the way to the floor with its lace buttons and closures and it shows off your curves from all that training.” Simonia winked.

“Lace like this costs a year’s worth of tesserae and oil back home. The merchant district in Burano Town has something similar though. It’s considered the capitol of Twelve for our fashion. Actually, my hand fasting cloth is made of Burano lace.”

“Oh, will you be incorporating it into the ceremony on Friday?” The fear was evident in Simonia’s voice.

_‘I shouldn’t have mentioned tesserae or being poor at all. This woman’s life is on the line.’_

“I believe so. No wedding is complete without tying the knot, where do you think the expression comes from?”  
“Give us your opinion Katniss, can you see yourself wearing something like this?” Cressida made a motion to have the model spin so they could get a shot of the lace buttons.

“Oh, I could yes but… I think it would look wonderful under the green trees back home, or maybe the oceans in District Four. If… If we have time before the games and we’re allowed to go, I’d like to see the ocean.”

_‘Lay it on thick and you’ll get through this.’_

“Our next model is wearing Pei Guo of District Three fame, our first out of Capitol designer to enter the contest for a chance to see you in her work.”

The dress was obviously a Snow favorite pick, with a slightly off the shoulder cap sleeve of red roses tapering down to a bodice dappled with white and red roses and a sweetheart neckline. The dress looked perfectly acceptable until ones’ eye left the bodice to the ruffled mid section scattered with rose petals and further down. The bottom of the dress looked like blood splattered and dumped over, dripping down in pools as though she had bathed in it. Of course she knew that they were roses but her mind saw blood… blood everywhere.”

“Um… would you excuse me for a moment? I need the restroom.” 

“Are you feeling unwell Victor Everdeen?” Simonia set her tea down on the marble and gold side table, helping Katniss to her feet. “The restroom is to the left, around the mirror.” 

“I…” She was having trouble breathing, “I just need a moment. Effie?”

“Let me help dear, please excuse us, too much excitement can make a bride faint.” 

Once they were in the restroom Katniss ran to the toilet and let go of her unsettled contents as quietly as she could. The damn dress was too tight. She needed to breathe. So much blood.

“Get this dress off me and the corset… please… cut the fucking thing off.. I don’t care. I can’t… Effie.. please… it’s too much.” Katniss cried uncaring about her makeup.

“I’ll call Cinna, he can help. We’ve got lighter dresses in the car.”

“Take the knife out of the purse and slice it off, please!” she wheezed, trying to keep her voice low.

Katniss felt the world spinning as she held on to the stall, wiping her mouth of the remnants of champagne. 

“Katniss?” Cinna called walking in.

“She needs help getting the dress off.” Effie sounded nervous but Katniss couldn’t focus on anyone but Cinna, who nodded taking her over to the small settee covered in a ghastly golden fabric and undid the invisible zipper; pulling the dress to her waist before undoing the corset ribbons with deft hands, casting it to the ground.

“I’ll tell Octavia or Portia to get the yellow dress, it doesn’t need a corset right?” At Cinna’s nod, Effie walked out quickly.

“What’s up girl on fire? I’ve never seen you want to get out so fast.”

“The dress looks like I stepped in blood, blood all over. How could he think… why? Cinna, why would he think I would wear that?”

“Hey,” he put his hand on her shoulder, “Because he wants to see you lose your composure, just like you did. And it’s ok, I get it. You aren’t on the field in the Arena, ok you are right here; picking a wedding dress from shit designers who don’t know the first thing about you.”

“How many more do we have?”

“We’ve got twenty four.” 

_‘A dress for each tribute.’_

“No more red… tell them that. And no roses.”  
================================================================  
Haymitch, dressed to impress, walked up the stairs to the Victor’s Lounge on Tribute Boulevard at ten in the morning. He looked striking in a bespoke coal black suit with red and gray pinstripes. It was paired a blue tie featuring red and white diagonal thin stripe accents over a crisp, white, double cuffed shirt. He felt like a puppet but admitted it was the best he’d looked in years. 

When his stylist had approached him twenty minutes after Katniss left, he’d almost slammed the man’s face into the door of the penthouse. Finding a random man walking in unannounced heightened Haymitch’s unease and vigilance.

“Who let you in!” The purple haired, golden eyed man dropped the garment bag to the floor as Haymitch shoved his face against the door jam with a knife to the throat. The teal door was hard and unforgiving, obviously secured steel from Twelve.

“Cinna gave me your code… I’m Marcus, your stylist for the wedding.” The man stuttered, terror obvious in his voice.

“I already have Cinna, I don’t need Snow’s people checking up on me,” Haymitch hissed pressing harder.

“I, I’m not one of Snow’s stylists. I’m Cinna’s boyfriend!” The man had his hands up in surrender as his cheek ached heavily from near breaking force.

“Oh… Well lucky Cinna,” Haymitch pulled his knife hand back slowly and laughed, slipping his knife back into the holster. “Next time knock, I could have killed you fifteen ways to Sunday and no one would have known.”

“Jesus Christ… Cinna warned me but… I’m sorry.”

“You gotta get thicker skin kid, I’m a Victor. We tend to lose a few marbles when we’re put in a cage.”

“Right,” Marcus rubbed his throat and coughed, “That’s quite a knife you have there, and a grip.”

“Kukri, a knife from the old world. Anyway, show me what you have in the bag.”

“Ok, shall we get started?” The abused stylist picked up the discarded garment bag and brushed it off.”

“I work at Saville and Burke, Cinna’s suit shop. Marcus Saville at your service.”  
As he pulled the zipper on the garment bag, Marcus looked warily at Haymitch, as he crossed over to the sitting area in front of the fireplace.

“Relax, I’m not going to try and kill you again. You just… Don’t sneak up on a Victor.” Haymitch hated the Capitol. Careers were used to the daily fucking exposure, had therapy, drugs… everything to cope. Outer district Victors got a pat on the back, a job well done, and sent on their merry little way with zero recourse to address what happened. 

“You want a drink?”  
=================================================================  
Haymitch snapped back to the present adjusting his suit as he walked in to the Victor Lounge, handing Finnick’s card to the maitre’d.

“Table one sir, Victor Odair is in the pool alongside at the moment. May I have our staff get you your usual?”

“No, it’s almost my wedding day. I think we’d like to celebrate. After all he is my best man.”  
“Dom Peringnon and some beef tartar it is then, compliments of the house.”

“Bring two bottles on the Capitol account.”

_‘If the Capitol is paying for my damn wedding, they can pay for the stag party, fuck you Snow.’_

“Understood.”

As Haymitch walked over to the table, Finnick dived gracefully into the rounded pool in front of them. In a passing thought he wondered just how deep Finnick could dive.  
He sat, watching as Finnick became a distant pinpoint of yellow. The pool must have continued down for twenty or more feet at least. A few minutes later the blond victor breeched the water and called for a towel.

“Well damn, look at you Abernathy, you clean up good.” 

“Snow ordered you back?” Haymitch asked as he nodded to the waiter who brought the complimentary food.

“No, I’ve been back for a few weeks now, Lark business.” Just like the namesake bird, Finnick chirped secrets out every morning like a bird in song, “So wedding a good looking girl with a fiery temper, how long has this been going on?”

“Long enough for Snow to think it’s a good idea.”

“Nice, you could do worse.” Finnick climbed out of the pool, wiping his face and body. 

“Nearly killed my stylist’s partner this morning, he came in unannounced.” Haymitch filled a glass with champagne and took a long drink, draining it. 

“Ouch, should have known better.” Finnick wrapped the towel around his waist and took a seat, crossing his leg at the knee. The house music changed to soothing vocal tracks, finally no more pounding base. 

“No, it’s my fault,” he looked around at the white couches and palm trees backlit with purple and sunset gold lighting, the glitzed accent wall of copper and gold. Deep Electronic House music flowed from the speakers. How many nights had he spent whoring himself here?

“Keep up the look though and Snow’s going to put you into circulation again, married or not.”

“Probably right, did our friend get the memo about the new weapon I had designed for the games?”

“The gladiatorial sword? Yeah, shorter than the average for you though, it should be delivered tomorrow.”

_‘Good Beetee got the wire, he’s not sure if the spool’s long enough to last the games. Damn it, Helps that he actually made the sword though. The cornucopia should have a bow, at this rate it usually does.’_ He signed to Finnick, grateful he at least had one coded skill they hadn’t deciphered. 

Finnick talked about the mundane possibility of making it a true stag night and calling in other strippers as he signed back.

_‘What else do he and Laura need? Plutarch’s getting nervous, too much is on the line already. Mags is barely keeping Annie calm. If she has to visit here, she could blow the whole damn thing.’_

“I don’t think my wife will appreciate strippers coming to the party, I told her it would be just us guys. Are Chaff and Blight able to make it?”

_‘Relax, take her to the lake district in Venice proper, she loves the bridges and it’s peaceful. She won’t know a thing, Better yet, that calming retreat thing there that she does every month before the games. Isn’t that still planned?’_

Finnick had gotten better at Israeli sign, he barely had to pause between words to check his meaning anymore.

_‘He wants to meet you in the place before two am, we’ll make sure the place is secure but you are not going to tell your blushing bride a damn thing. Have you been working on the anti interrogation techniques?’_

“Hey, what do you say to taking a dip in the hot tub? You need to relax you look like a nervous wreck, you getting cold feet?”

Shit, something was plain on his face.

“I’m an old man… she’s eighteen… what she sees in me I don’t know. Damn right I’m nervous.”

_‘We have roughly three weeks until reaping day. You need to get ready.'_

“Sounds like an amazing idea.” Haymitch stood up and gestured for the food to be moved outside to the spa, “I’ll need a swimsuit and a garment bag, Marcus and Cinna will have my head if I get the suit ruined.

_‘He may want an EMP.’_

“They have Katniss’ dress try on live right now, but they’re keeping one of the dresses a secret for you. There are rumors she’s pregnant,” Finnick pulled up the news feed on the data pad built into the table.

“First I’m hearing and I think I would know.”

“Apparently one of the dresses looks like… it was dipped in blood.” Finnick made a gesture for him to continue signing while they waited for the garment bag.

_‘We think Snow is breeding victors. We need a sample of every female victor’s blood including Annie. There are trace pregnancy proteins. We already know Cashmere has a kid on the down low. Snow let her keep it after that ‘mishap’ last year with her implant. Too bad we have a good idea that it wasn’t.’_

“ I hope she doesn’t have a flashback.” Haymitch made himself another glass and stabbed at the tartar, making quick work as he polished it all off in quick succession.

Finnick’s response was rapid, _‘I’ve known that was a possibility for years, I take a second pill just incase the implant is tampered with. So does Annie.’_

Finick pointed to the news feed and sure enough it looked as though Katniss ran off due to morning sickness. But the quick look appearing on her face showed a poorly hidden covering of shock and disgust. The dress looked like a sacrifice.

Haymitch signed back _‘Kat’s positive. It’s been a little over 2 weeks.”_

The shock in Finnick’s eyes was replaced by a sad laughter as the waiter returned with a swimsuit and brought the garment bag. He hadn’t wanted any of this for the older man but Haymitch was determined.

“You don’t really think she’ll have an episode? I’ve got some medications we can get from a pharmacist on 43’d, how long has this been going on?” Finnick signed back, _‘Congratulations? Wow, this is heavy, are you sure it was deliberate? Plus I think we have spies. Can anyone read this?’_

“I think I’ll have glass with you, are we definitely still on after the engagement banquet? You’ll have a hangover pill and a med drip before the big day.” Finnick grabbed the bottle, pointing subtly to the pinhole camera on the right of the table and covering it.

_‘Yes, I check the implant every day to made sure nothing is off, Neuronin levels and everything still read negative each time we had sex, he knew. And the chances of someone remembering Hebrew after the diaspora, fucking rare since the books were burned or taken.’_

“Of course we’re still on, question, just how deep can you dive?” Haymitch needed a strong and deep swimmer if they had heavy water obstacles.

“About a hundred twenty-five feet at the most? I know it takes two to three minutes breath to get pearls for Annie.” 

Haymitch undressed in the open, not caring about any Capitol Paparazzi, let them say he’d become soft now. He’d often presented himself as a waning figure, too drunk to care and too angry with the world to do anything about it. Baggy un-tailored clothes and long oily hair kept any potential customer of Snow’s off of his cock and out of his life. Women and men didn’t go for the homeless look, the same went for his house, no one wanted to interview a hoarder, he’d be drunk as hell for the reaping if Katniss would allow it.

“Shit… you have been preparing.” Finnick whistled appreciatively as he took in Haymitch’s well endowed physique. 

“Late night runs with logs on your shoulders’ll do that for you. You should try it sometime, maybe we can compare methods.” He slipped into the tight black swim trunks and stepped down into the marbled hot tub. The temperature setting in the club environmental seal made the water inviting instead of overwhelming on a hot day.

“I’ll stick with the ocean thanks, but she must really appreciate… I didn’t think you had it in you to go get married!” 

_‘Have you given any hints to her about what we have planned?_ ’ Finnick signed one handed as he finished his glass. Just then the maitre’d walked over with a plate of salmon crostini and set it down.

“A complimentary dish from Victor Enobaria, she knows how much you enjoy them, Victor Odair, Victor Abernathy… We’ve managed to get word of some Paparazzi stalking around the perimeter, would you like the body guards to…remove them?” 

“No, bad publicity is still publicity, the President probably sent them to make gossip about the wedding,” Odair waved the man off.

_‘She’s got… a hint? I want her to know as little as possible until after the games. Besides, we don’t even have a rebel worth the cause yet. Her Victor tattoo is getting done tonight before the party. Cinna designed it without the trading code. Snow won’t know it until after it’s done.’_

Finnick knew ‘It’ was the beginning, the rebellion years in the making.  
================================================================

As Katniss came back from the restroom, she wore a stunning halter neck in sunrise yellow with varying orange and red gradients starting at the waist. Complete with a split revealing stiletto heels in the same style. Haymitch’s mother’s betrothal necklace paired beautifully with the ensemble.

“Forgive us, it was my first time wearing a corset, my prep team tightened it a little too well.”

“Perfectly understandable Victor Everdeen, shall we continue? I do have another dress that the President has asked you to try on now if possible. He wants you to wear it on the Flickerman Hour tomorrow night. We’ve been ordered not to film so.. both dresses will be a surprise but, the audience will still get the enjoyment of seeing you try on the others that you choose to model.”

“Are the cameras ready then?” Katniss was handed another flute of champagne and the perfect jagged little pill to wash down. “Don’t want to enjoy myself too much. We still have our maid of honor lunch to enjoy before I head off to train with Haymitch.”

“Oh, we hear he’s at the Victor Lounge, it’s their premiere nightclub,” Flavius sighed in envy, “He’s enjoying himself with dashing Finnick. Oh I think I could eat that man alive!” He chuckled fanning himself.

“Speaking of Victor… Tribute Tease Monthly just uploaded this. Certain things have been blurred but, your fiancé is not the butter pot we thought.” Octavia passed the data pad to Katniss as she sat down.

Katniss laughed, Haymitch just doubled his viability as a sponsor candidate. 

“Well well ladies, that is the man I’ll be coming home to every night, he may be experienced but he doesn’t tire easily.” Katniss turned the pad to the camera before Portia, Octavia and Effie all joined in on looking at Haymitch and making appreciative remarks.

_‘Reel them in while you have the chance Katniss, even if he turns you both into his whores, better to whore than be dead if it saves the family. I’m so sorry Gale, I know you love me… and I love you, just not enough to get you killed. Haymitch… is my future, especially with the baby.’_

Cressida gave a thumbs up, “Have you given any thought to what venue you’ll spend your wedding night at?”

“Well Cressida, I’m hoping some place with a spa, after all the training we’ve been doing, we deserve a night off. Oh, and I want our fans to check out the mock games in the mentor college. It will give you a chance to see more of Haymitch in action.”

If Effie hadn’t given her that anti-nausea medication she would be vomiting again. Talking about Haymitch like he was a steer or prize hog brought to market, or even a prize stallion brought to stud based on the pictures she just saw sickened her. She had to think like a mentor now, part of that was selling her tribute’s assets to gain more of a following and more money. Capitol credits meant more survivability.

“That sounds lovely, a spa is just what you shall have, nothing but the best for my two victors! Now I do believe we have sixteen dresses left to view after you said no red and no roses. You want a pure white dress, like a queen of ice. You already have enough fire in your soul, you don’t need red. And as for roses, well you told me that the President already gave you a lovely rose bouquet, you wouldn’t want a rose dress to take away from their beauty isn’t that right Katniss?”

“It is Effie, thank you so much for being here,” Katniss’s yellow silk clad hands clasped Effie’s as she looked on in what she hopped was bridal bliss.

“Anything for your special day, now I do believe the President’s next choice is available and we have the designer in house today.” Effie clapped as Cinna walked forward.

“Hello, for those of you who don’t know, I’m Cinna Burke, I own Jamila fashion on the high street in Capitol Centre and Saville and Burke Suites located on Saville Road, you all like to nickname it the King’s Man shop because you say I’ll be the President’s designer someday. If only I could be so lucky. Today I have a dress made for Katniss using a design from my own mentor Saverio, it’s been modified a bit to fit her personality.”

A model walked forward as Cinna clapped, the lights lowering to show the shining silver and white layered organza falling like the snowdrops back home in Twelve, and the layers of frost on the windowpanes in winter. Metal work lace wings graced the front and back of the gown as though a butterfly or moth of ice had lent them to her. Over the top but exactly what Snow would want. It was beautiful.

“There, I want that one… It’s so beautiful Cinna.” The camera barely got a minute to focus on the dress before the Capitol Daily feed was interrupted as Cressida’s assistant cut over to the other models for their reactions to the dress as Cinna and Katniss walked over to a set up changing trifold.

“Then let’s get you in it girl on fire!”

After dressing, Cressida’s camera crew only focused on her face as she made like the overwhelmed bride. 

_‘Think of Peeta, think of Rue.’ They always made her cry, during the day or night it made no difference._

Her reception wedding dress was similar to the one her mother wore as a merchant bride, also by Cassius Oleg. It was complete with floor length ballgown skirt and train featuring a beaded lace bodice and open back. She possibly loved that one more than Cinna’s, it reminded her of home.  
===================================================================  
Later she and Effie were only followed by the cameras so long. Getting an exclusive reservation, they were seated at Commis after taking the Capitol train. Commis was an unassuming small restaurant with a simple white sign over a slate grey building, with frosted windows and a white awning. The interior was white walled with grey weathered wood accent walls. It featured a 6 person oak topped bar with overhead industrial lamps not unlike those in Twelve over the Justice Center, but smaller. The bar granted a culinary show in front of the professional ovens. Peeta would have loved it, just to see how well those ovens compared to the one in his bakery.

The tables and chairs were simple wood and black leather affairs and the food… was delicious, but severely overpriced. No one but the best of the best ate at Commis at more than 200 credits a plate and drink. She hated affluence, she hated the flaunting, but she was too tired to complain.

The weary bridal party felt sheer relief at just eating. When Cressida removed her camera helm, Katniss noted the green tattoo of ivy snaking over the left side of her head and trailing down under her clothing.

“Cressida Yates, Victor of 68, pleasure to finally meet you. I’ll be filming your wedding as well. Do you mind if I join? No cameras but Snow does want a written interview along with this. The inside scoop of the inside scoop so to speak. I can pay my own way of course.”

“We got done a little early with Katniss making such a good decision, I just hope everyone will be pleased.” Effie took a sip of a Batard Montrachet by Olivier Leflaive in the year 2017, nothing but the best would do today, “You sold them on both dresses, Katniss. Everyone should be very pleased.”

“You were beautiful darling, you’ll look even more radiant on the big day once we get all your makeup done. Oh and your dress will show your Victor tattoo.” Flavius took a bite of his cucumber and melon salad with mint, waving his fork in delight.

“My Victor tattoo is getting done soon?” Katniss paused before taking before taking a bite of her pickled red onion and watercress salad.

“Oh, yes Cinna’s had a tattooist booked for months ahead of your session. It’s happening tonight before the engagement. You wanted a mockingjay right?”

“Yes, not like my pin though, I want it in color on the arrow, no circle… and a crown above its head.”

“Oh, so you’re joining Haymitch’s Victor Circle, that’ll be a surprise,” Portia piped up as she popped a sun ripened tomato in her mouth.

“Why?” Katniss set her fork down and wiped her mouth, actually wanting the wine in front of her; secretly thanking Effie for her Capitol pills.  
“Most Victors don’t join his circle until they’ve had ten years or more of mentoring, the crown is their symbol, oh that salmon looks divine.” Octavia looked appreciatively at the passing dish as Cinna sipped on something called an Old Fashioned.

“So, what I’m being let in early because I’m becoming his wife?” Katniss sipped carefully at the slightly chilled wine appreciating its bold flavors. She had no idea how to taste wine but it left her with a slight peach flavor almost on the back of her tongue.

“No,” Cinna spoke up pointing slightly around his glass, “It means he trusts you to watch his back. Victors form alliances outside of the games for obvious reasons I don’t want to get into in public.”


	9. Seeking Out Tokens and Threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss and Effie go in search of the tokens for the 75th Hunger Games and when they return, Katniss finds that Snow has gifted her with something she never wanted. Later that evening, the first mock arena session seems to garner more attention than either she or Haymitch were bargaining for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all enjoying this! I've tried to make it unique in comparison to all of the other alternate universe Hunger Games fics. Let me know what you think.

After lunch, despite being nearly twelve-thirty, Cinna and the rest of the team had departed to adjust the dresses before the following evening on the Flickerman Hour.  
Meanwhile, Katniss and Effie rushed through the side streets with Cressida into a small back road known as Metalsmith Alley.

“I know everything has been mapped out and predetermined but Haymitch always insists on doing things at the last minute! We’re going to be late!”  
“We’re not going to the training floor Effie, we’ve got something the rest of the tributes don’t need to see.”  
“Oh, it sounds intriguing and devious, Haymitch hasn’t done devious in years.”  
The sound of hammers on anvils echoed down the road along with unusual heavy music.  
“That’s Hiram, a distant friend of Haymitch’s, he has rather… individual taste.”

“Does Hiram want to have customers? That music sounds rather…ominous.” Katniss paused as they went to step into the blistering environment. Effie looked perplexed, hesitating herself.  
“He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Willkommen, du wirst geliebt!, welcome to Berakhah my lovely customers!” Before them stood a man taller than Haymitch and twice as muscled in the arms, with long black hair and a tanned complexion. A leather apron studded with tools hung around his waist. His beard was graying but well kept.

“Computer! Shut off the noise!” The man placated, “Please forgive the music, an old world entertainment by a group called Rammstein. I bought it off the old hawker Haymitch recommended. It helps me to create! Now Miss Effie you must be here about the sword I was going to send over to the Tribute Center, or did Beetee and Haymitch have something new to add. I cannot do it in two weeks, whatever weapon it is, unless he wants those other kunai he has in the back!”

“Actually, we’re here about creating two tokens that compliment Miss Everdeen’s mockingjay pin. I was thinking a bracelet and a necklace.”

Katniss interjected, “What about a necklace that can hold photos?”

“What photos did you have in mind? I have a friend who can do miniature glass copies with silver nitrate. Haymitch says there may be water involved, an actual photo would degrade.” Hiram walked around a drawing board and pulled a sheet of butcher paper off of the roll, tacking it down quickly “Come, come! Tell me what you want?”

Cressida’s helm was back on and recording, “Not many people get to see designs for a token, especially one for Twelve. Mr. Hiram, would you mind walking us through your creative process?”

“That’s Mr. Adler to you in here, Hiram is for when I’m at home with a good wine. But… My work is very confidential, I don’t let anyone record the process.”

“Understood, then tell us when did your shop start here in the Capitol?”

“Since I was forced to move here because Snow saw my talents at seventeen, enough with the questions. I have a job to do,” Cressida stopped filming as Hiram turned back to Katniss and beckoned her to speak.

“I want a simple trifold necklace, in gold with filigree etching of ivy and leaves.”

“You want Twelve’s maple leaves and autumn color Boston Ivy? They’re Haymitch’s favorites.”

“Perfect, but I had no idea. I love the way they grow over the brick walls in autumn. When did you meet my fiancé?”

“He was a cocky little shit who demanded I make him a viking sword and only gave me enough money for a metal toothpick!” Hiram guffawed as he sketched, “I made it for him purely because of hutzpah, boy he had large hoden, I’ll give him that. Now, do we have an idea for the bracelet? Is it for a man or woman?”

“A man, I think? Haymitch wasn’t clear, just that he wanted tokens.”

“Let’s make it for a man, hold on a moment. Jakob! Come here and stoke the forge! We need to finish the trident for the cornucopia! Tell you what, I’ll give you two lengths of break-proof leather for the necklace.”

Jakob, a wiry and lithe teen of about 13 jogged from the back and stoked the fire, wearing a small cap on the crown of his head. As he pushed on the bellows, the fire grew hotter, turning the smelter red.

“Junge! Deine kippah! Vestek es jetzt! Anyone could walk in!”

The boy quickly removed the small cap and hid it under the quenching bucket. Katniss knew she’d have to ask Haymitch about the unusual man when she got back. What was so wrong with a little cap?

“I apologize for the outburst, so tell me about this bracelet.”

“I want us to have a similar item to my pin and Cinna’s fire.”

“What about something that doesn’t break despite the waves thrown at it? It speaks of strength, we can make it gold a reddish gold if you want. But fire is killed by water, coral thrives with it.” You said earlier that you want to see District Four, this gives you something to look forward to.” 

Hiram quickly sketched out a coral cuff bracelet in gold, showing it to Katniss for her approval. The coral shape still managed to look like flames licking.

“What do you think eh? Pretty good if I do say so myself. No other tributes will have tokens as nice.”

“I think we’ll like them.” Katniss was beginning to see why Haymitch hadn’t gotten their tokens completed back home.

“If you didn’t want the best, you wouldn’t be here! Now go, and take the sword, it’s paid for.” Hiram kissed Katniss on the cheek and whispered “ Tell him, ‘mishpahoth ata ni’tsosl.’”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he’s a survivor for the people, he lives despite three thousand years of persecution, and now you join our tribe.”

“Katniss, we need to go.” Effie waved her on. 

“Jakob, get the kunai from the back and wrap the sword for our guests, in the good branded leather sheathe!”

Jakob jogged quickly to the back and returned a few moments later with the sword and kunai, wishing them a pleasant day as Hiram waved and the door shut behind them.

“He may be strange, but he is a talented swordsmith according to Haymitch. The car is just down the end of the alley. Now that we’ve checked off our list, it’s time to head back so you can train and do the arena session. Then after eight pm, we’ll get you ready. You did well today Katniss.”  
==============================================

By the time they returned to the Tribute Center, Katniss saw Haymitch walking in at the same time.

“Thought we both agreed on three, but almost four pm works fine. I have sponsors ringing off the hook for both games doll face. Love the dress… this suits you better,” He strolled over and kissed Katniss’ gloved hand, “and is that a sword or are you just happy to see me?” He relieved her of the weapon and slid it over his suit. 

“The metalsmith you sent me to is a little unusual but… nice.”

“Hiram wouldn’t hurt a fly unless he had to. His grandson Jakob is just thirteen, and the only one to take over, so I help them out when things get tough.”

As they got into the elevator and the doors were about to close, a hand interrupted the sensor as a woman clutching a leafy headdress entered. As she tossed it on the floor she glanced over invitingly to Haymitch. 

“Hey there stranger! Isn’t my costume just awful? My stylist’s the biggest idiot in the Capitol! Forty years of trees, you think they’d do something a little bit different. This is what we’re wearing in the Tribute parade if we get chosen. Wish I’d gotten Cinna, you look fantastic by the way!”

“Johanna Mason, Katniss Everdeen, my fiancé.”

“Congratulations, I hear I’m a bridesmaid. Can anyone give a hand unzipping this thing? Oh, and that blue dress you wore on the Victory Tour? The strapless one with the diamonds? I wanted to reach through the screen and tear it off your back.”

Haymitch reached forward and inched the zipper down revealing a smooth expanse of skin without undergarments, Johanna finished unzipping and kicked it away, disgusted. She wore nothing but forest green slippers. “That’s better.”  
She and Haymitch spent the whole ride to the seventh floor conversing about the latest trap techniques that might be employed. The grin on Haymitch’s face grew as she discussed training and possibly because Johanna’s bare breasts were reflected in the subdued lighting.

“When you want to train, just send me a card, I’ll have Jeris ready. Thanks for the stimulating conversation. And Katniss, I guess I’ll see you on Friday. Better hope the bridesmaid’s dresses live up to the hype the wedding dress has. I’ve seen six knockoff designs in the shop windows since this morning.”

“They only got a glimpse.” Katniss refused to look at her body bare before the group.

“You’d be surprised at technology nowadays.” The elevator came to a halt as Johanna walked out, her hips swaying. It caused Katniss to blush, Effie meanwhile had covered her face with her hand and stood stock still. 

Haymitch laughed heavily, “It isn’t funny! Her stripping down like that was just… unbecoming. And speaking of stripping down Haymitch! I can’t believe you!” Effie whacked Haymitch’s arm with her fan.  
Katniss stood there silently as Haymitch’s laughter slowed down as they got to their floor, “Don’t you see? Johanna and the rest of them want to test you.

She huffed, “I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

“You’re so pure.” Haymitch reached to cup her cheek but she moved away.

“I am not pure! I’ve been practically ripping your clothes off every time there’s been a camera for the last month!”

“You are too pure sweetheart, too pure for the Capitol, they’re teasing you.”

As the doors opened to the walkway in front of the Penthouse doors, Katniss saw a new pile of gifts.

“How in the world do they expect us to go through all of these gifts in one day before the wedding?”

“Capitol tradition says you go through them on the wedding night, not before. Now come come, we have a lot to do yet.” Effie opened the Penthouse door and called for assistance from the Avox who prevented Katniss from stooping down to get them herself. There was something familiar about him.

His red hair matched the Avox female… Suddenly it dawned on her, Darius. The only friendly peacekeeper in Twelve, who would rather tell a joke than hurt anyone. They’d often shared a bowl of Sae’s stew after he bought guinea fowl. The man had stolen grain from the tesserae storehouse in February to keep the Mellark Bakery afloat.

“Looks like they’ve gotten you a matched set this year.” Effie smiled.

“He was my friend…” Katniss moved to address him but Haymitch grabbed her wrists, “Kat wait,” but her voice was rendered as mute as Darius’ tongue. What could she say? What would make everything better when his life was destined for slavery?

She wrenched herself free and stepped around and went to the stairs, making her way to her old room and locking the door behind her. She sat for a long time in the darkness, not caring about the training session, the only light in the room a faint glow from her dress. One of Cinna’s light packs. It made her imagine sitting in front of the fire back home.

Haymitch knocked on the door around five-thirty, after she had changed and folded the dress on her bed.

“Dinner’s here, are you hungry?” Katniss looked at the case with her Victor’s crown on the table, it must have been returned after the dress try on. She wanted to throw it out the window.  
“I’ll be right there.”

Katniss wasn’t aware of much at dinner except that Darius and the female Avox insisted on serving them. At one point she knocked over a bowl of buttered peas and as she helped clean, Haymitch warned that it wasn’t her job. “I don’t care, I knocked it over, I can help clean it up!”

“Kat,” Haymitch bent down seeing her grasp Darius’ hand, “He’ll be punished or worse, get up and let him do his job.”  
================================================

At six, they descended to the causeway connecting the Mentor college to the training center and walked across to the second elevator that would take them to the mock arena floor. Magdalena greeted them and ushered them into the preparation area where Haymitch and the rest of the volunteer tributes were fitted with a bio monitor disc.

“Tonight’s session will last two hours. If you die in the mock game from a wound according to your bio monitor, you will be removed from the tiered Tribute list and made to start from the bottom. You will still participate in the end game, but you will do so at a disadvantage. You’ll have a slower response time for Mentor communications and sponsorship materials. If you continue to fail, you will lose sponsorship. This is in no way similar to the real games in regards to sponsorship, but we find it gives students the incentive to try harder. May tonight’s session be in your favor.”

Instead of entering directly into the arena, Haymitch was escorted down to the staging area with all of the other tributes while Katniss was put into the Mentorship room, there she saw Johanna.

“We meet again.” Johanna was clothed in a loose fitting forest green flowing top and black pants, the same soft slippers graced her feet. It was a relief not to see her naked. Part of Katniss felt jealous at the way Haymitch had smiled at Johanna.

“Nice to be here,” Katniss gestured sarcastically around the room. The young woman pulled up a chair and draped her legs over the side. Katniss could see why everyone had overlooked Johanna in her games. She was soft and approachable on the surface.

“This isn’t anything like the real deal, this is child’s play.”

“Haymitch says the same thing.” Katniss looked at a monitor in front of them and spied Haymitch in the tube, the counter going down, ’10, 9, 8,…’

“There won’t be live mines right?” She watched the tunnel door open resting Haymitch upon a metal detonation plate. Her heart started to pound.

“Oh there will be, if he steps off early here, he could be maimed but not killed.”

As the cannon boomed she watched Haymitch ignore the cornucopia and make for one of the abandoned buildings three blocks in, with a teen from Two fast on his tail. A piece of broken rebar lay cast off from a building not two feet to the left of the first block and he slid to grab it, avoiding the swing of a rather heavy broadsword down over his neck. His breathing was labored as he flipped forward on his left hand and kicked out to the side, taking her out at the shins. The sword dropped from her hands as she struggled to regain her footing, but it was too late as Haymitch shoved the rebar into her stomach causing the bio monitor on her chest to blink red as the cannon sounded.

“Sorry kid.” The blood bubbled up in her mouth as he grabbed the sword with its sheathe and slid into the darkness. The fire escape slid down only part way as he vaulted himself up to catch the bottom rung. Breaking a window he slid into an apartment with fetid corpses and struggled not to vomit as he continued through looking for anything of use. His lungs hurt from the frantic pace. His sole focus was to get higher, to see how far he was away from the poison feast.

The hour passed quickly as Haymitch walked down the ramp of a construction section leading over to another roof, nearly losing his footing. Cannon fire came three more times as he crossed another building and ducked into a loft with a working phone. However, Haymitch knew better, ignoring the temptation to rig a bomb with the household cleaning supplies and the wire cutters placed so conveniently within his reach. That was, until Blue slid into the same loft with a heavy mace, her thin frame making it look like she would drop any second. Yet she put up a challenge as Haymitch held the kukri knife ready to let it fly.

“Look we both know I can kill you before you swing that mace down. “You want to stay on the top tribute list? Form an alliance with me. I need you to help me find the girl with spiked hair, Jeris. Where are you from?”

“Six…” She held the mace with a double handed grip leaving her right flank exposed; uneasy at Haymitch’s forwardness.  
“Look, I’ll protect you, I’ve done this before. I know a mock game can seem scary and overwhelming but we’ve gotta get to that feast to end this. Now are you gonna work with me or swing that mace? Let me help you and you could walk out of mentor college without a nick.”

“I’ll bash your chest in if you cross me old man.”

“I’d love to see you try Blue, we got a deal?” Haymitch stuck out his hand.

She took it hesitantly and shook on their alliance. He looked at the camera overhead and proceeded to tell her to grab the household cleaners and the telephone. A small blue backpack sat next to the corpse of a child, rife with radiation boils. “They may be fake, but with the reality sensors, I wouldn’t touch the corpses. Grab the bag and stick the stuff inside. We’re getting out of here.”  
=====================================

When Katniss looked at the monitor, Haymitch’s face stared back at her for a moment as if to speak, but he continued on as his name glowed with incoming donations of food and water from Six.

“You want to hit the button that says drop, it’ll ping the parachute. Send a note. They give you audio/video tech? If you’ve got that, it’ll be easier to communicate. Tomorrow they’ll send you to schmooze sponsors, wedding or not.” Johanna pinged a parachute from Seven for Jeris containing sodium and sodium hydroxide along with another containing aluminum and a vial of nitric acid.

‘Fucking move it kiddo, Abernathy wants alliance, 16th street-J’

“Where is Jeris now?” Katniss coordinated the cameras, pinging the location of Jeris’ health monitor. “Never mind, she’s coming up tenth. What’s in her hand?”

Johanna looked closely, “Molotov cocktail, made of vodka and a rag soaked in kerosene. Kid’s got a knack for poisons and bombs. I don’t like them myself but you can’t argue with the effectiveness.”

Katniss’ note pinged that it was sent to the parachute team for Haymitch:  
‘Love you, move to 16th to rendezvous- K’

“You literally just sent her bomb materials.” Katniss watched as her parachutes landed on the fire escape near the loft window, Haymitch opened them revealing pita bread and hummus along with water; items that could keep for a few hours until they made it to the poisoned feast table.

In the arena, as they snuck out of the loft, Haymitch pushed Blue up against the wall and motioned for her to get down on the fire escape as the sunlight disappeared. At this point six cannons had voiced a tribute’s death.

A voice carried up the stairs, “He went this way with the girl from Six.” Blue looked apprehensive as Haymitch gestured for quiet, adjusting his sword. His body had shifted its center, losing the softness Katniss’d become familiar with, instead becoming the man she had glimpsed only in their training. He was cold, a hardened killer. 

“Don’t move. I’ll be back,” Haymitch slid down the ladder of the fire escape, catching a male off guard and slicing at the backs of his knees before landing a blow to his temple that registered as black on the monitor when the boy was rolled over, from District 2. The kid had an actual brain bleed. The cannon belted out the signal of his death as Haymitch made a threat to move.

The other two tributes accompanying him ran off away from the feast building the moment Haymitch stepped towards them.  
He could see Blue looking over the fire escape, “Get down here, Jeris is on 16th and making her way down. The feast building is on West Thirty-Fourth. We need to get there fast. The timer’s counting down.”

Haymitch pointed to the timer in the sky, watching Blue drop down and land like a cat. As they turned the corner they took Twelfth street where Haymitch saw Jeris, catching up to her he nodded. “Hey boss, ‘bout time you got here.” she huffed shifting the parachute cases on her shoulder.

“Give me those, we have other household cleaners and a phone.”

“Oooo ringing pipe bomb? You’re speaking my language. Saw a piece of PVC a block back or so if you want to run for it. Oh, found some wire in another kid’s pack, he was going to fashion a trip line. What if instead of the pipe rig, we make a boom box. You got any nails?”

“You are scary at this.” Haymitch jogged up to the corner of Twelfth and Sixth with Blue scouting the rear.

“Nope, I’m prepared, want a protein bar or an apple? This kid from nine had great sponsors.”

“Apple in exchange for some water?” Blue passed a spare bottle up which Jeris accepted gratefully. She grinned like the cat that caught the canary,“Only taking a sip, the rest goes for the magic hour. We’re gonna blow the table. So far I haven’t seen any other tributes taking this route. I don’t think they studied the layout. Which gives us an advantage. I have a feeling, hear me out on this. This is the world before Panem.”

As they came up 6th, they were accosted by the tributes from District 1. “Jeris, now would be a good time to light and run!”

“Got it!” She pulled a match from her hair, taped down and hidden amongst the spikes and lit it with the pad of her thumb. She lit the cloth as the tributes attempted to rush them, catching their clothing as she threw the bottle in their path, watching the flames rush as they screamed out and dove to the ground. Two cannons called out in succession.

They ran to Thirty-Second Street and found the location to be an imposing building that seemed to go on forever. Entering in they checked for traps and found the stairwell littered with bodies.

“Keep climbing, ignore the stench, it isn’t real, it’s the game.” Haymitch called back to Blue as she almost vomited. They climbed until they reached a door marked ‘67th floor, Conference Rooms’.

“This is it, Jeris, I need you to go and set up trip lines. Blue, come with me.”

In the mentor room, Katniss and Johanna watched the timer counting down the last five minutes of the session. So far their tributes had been the first to make it to the feast level. The girl from Six, whom Haymitch had nicknamed Blue, had mentors that weren’t present.

“Where are the mentors from Six?” Katniss watched as Johanna keyed up a camera to the left of Jeris, looking around the corner as a tribute from Three and another from Five entered the playing field.

“Mentors from Six are drug addicts, every last one. They have issues with Morphling, even the student mentors tend to get bent. I’m concerned Jeris is going to bite it here. She pointed back to the camera where Jeris was working.

As Jeris finished setting the trip line, the male tribute from Three stepped over the wire.

“Uh Haymitch? A little fucking help here!” Jeris pulled a dagger from a leg holster and danced lightly. “Come on then! Let’s have it!”

The boy dodged and ducked as Jeris stabbed, she could hear running behind her but had no time to process as a the mace swung hitting the tribute from Three in the chest with a sickening crack. Blue stood there shaking as she dropped the mace. The tenth cannon called out, a life ended too early.

But before they could continue Magdalena’s voice came over in an Arena wide announcement.  
“Please report to the Cornucopia for extraction, end of Arena exercises, repeat, report to the cornucopia for extraction, end of Arena exercises.

When they reached the Cornucopia on East 64th Magda greeted them. “Well done for the first day, tomorrow we shall continue the exercise. The listing of current dead tributes will be posted in the morning once we tally the total scores.”

The doors of the arena released them into the cleansed air of the mentor college as Haymitch breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he could survive after all.` He felt like he wanted to vomit from the exertion but showed no weakness. The other tributes were taken out to the medical center and Haymitch found himself looking over the male tribute from Three struggling to breathe as blood poured from his mouth. The monitor was black with a pulsing red circle.

He knew the boy wasn’t going to make it.  
===================================================  
When Katniss came down to the arena floor with the rest of the mentors, she found Haymitch sitting on the floor with a stolen pack, sharing an apple and protein bars with Jeris. Johanna followed behind stealing a bar out of her tribute’s hand. Haymitch offered her a bite of the green apple and she smiled.

“This gives me an idea,” she pulled Jeris into a group huddle with the other two victors.

“Cyanide. I can get you enough.”

“Knowing the game makers, they want something more exciting.” Katniss grabbed a red macintosh and wiped the waxy skin on her uniform.

No one argued as they began breaking down what they’d learned in the arena that day.

She could see the coldness in Haymitch’s eyes as he discussed strategy, it was no different than her own when in the midst of fighting. However, Haymitch seemed to be in constant fight or flight mode. There was no break, his hyper-vigilance was like a mirror. She’d already been suffering for little over a year, she couldn’t imagine twenty-five years of constant pressure. But now, she had to think of him. Their future may well be short, but it was theirs. 

As he pointed to the rough map they’d drawn, Katniss looked over her shoulders, fourteen tributes stood with their arms crossed. The Careers from One stared at Haymitch with obvious malice.

“I think we should wrap it up for the night, we’ve got a good idea of where to continue,” Johanna flipped off the Careers. “Anybody else feel like fucking around here? Because my tribute isn’t bad with an axe either! And Abernathy? You know better than to fuck with him, Career or not.”  
“You won by cheating old man, who the hell wins by a force field?” The tribute reminded Katniss of Marvel. He looked cocky to the end but ultimately was more of a talker than a man of real action. Without a good alliance he was nothing but a pretty face.

Haymitch ran his hand over the buzzed hair of his scalp and laughed, “You wouldn’t have thought of it in a million years. Come talk to me when you actually grow a pair.”

“You want to take this outside?” The tribute stepped toward Haymitch with his halberd in a ready stance.

“Your stance is uneven on the thrust. You tend to favor the left arm due to an old break that never healed well and that weapon is too damn tall for you. You lose your balance slightly when you block. Kid you think I haven’t noticed you in practice? Try to fucking fight me with that and I can drop you in under a minute.” Haymitch stood up grabbing the sword.

“Salsus, leave it,” the female career with purplish hair and a blue stone in her forehead pushed the boy back with a grunt of effort, “We’ll have plenty of time to kick his ass in the Arena tomorrow.”

“Nah Lapis, cradle robber won’t last six minutes tomorrow, he’s got a wedding to get ready for.”

“Hey!” Katniss stood up and stalked over to the ass, “For your information, I seduced him, so if anyone’s robbing anything, it’s me. Next time you want to insult my fiancé, you’ll deal with me. Oh and another thing… you may want to watch your back from now on.”

“Is that a threat Twelve? Grubby little miner’s daughter…” He didn’t get another word in as Katniss punched him in the face catching him off guard as his head knocked back while she ripped the halberd from his grip and checked him in the stomach with the pole end, forcing him to the ground.

“Don’t you EVER talk about my father or my husband again!” She swung the halberd around pointing the curved blade at his throat. Peace keepers came over quickly and pulled Katniss away as she dropped the weapon with little resistance.

“Now I’m going to make sure he can’t walk down the aisle on Friday.” The career wiped the blood away from his mouth as he pushed away the offers of help from his alliance group.

“Keep talking kid, next time you won’t have a mouth to speak out of,” Jeris waved the small vial of nitric acid back and forth.  
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End file.
